


Go, Fight, Win!

by dinnfameron



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Best Friends Stevie Budd & David Rose, Dramatic David Rose, F/M, First Kiss, M/M, POV David Rose, Patrick Brewer is a Button, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, Stevie Budd is a Troll, alexis rose saying david, cheerleader patrick brewer, colorguard...ian david rose, for filling a sports prompt there's very little sports things happening in this, idiots to lovers, oblivious david rose, rating is for language, traces of Mean Girls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 29,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25498591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinnfameron/pseuds/dinnfameron
Summary: David is in color guard and may or may not have a tiny little barely-there crush on one Patrick Brewer, Cheerleader. When Patrick asks him to be his (fake) business partner for a school project AND hang out at the homecoming dance, David must figure out how to overcome his own knack for screwing everything up before he, well, screws everything up. With a halftime performance, a $100 Café Tropical gift card, and a sweet boy’s heart on the line, David can’t afford to lose this one.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose, Theodore "Ted" Mullens/Alexis Rose (Background)
Comments: 80
Kudos: 130
Collections: Schitt’s Creek Sports Fest





	1. Tuesday #1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCSportsFest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCSportsFest) collection. 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Okay, if I'm anyone, I'm Tina Fey," he asserts, and Stevie huffs a laugh. "Besides, what movie is based on your life? The Grudge?"

There’s no helping it, in David’s opinion. He never really had a chance, if you think about it. There was no way anyone with eyes in their head and blood in their veins could take in the sight of Patrick Brewer in a cheerleading uniform and not be… _affected_ by that. He was just so damn enthusiastic in his little outfit, hopping around with the other members of the squad, – not that David had ever been to a game, but he'd seen them in action at the mandatory pep rallies – his smile lighting up the whole gym like a sunny day. With the little wraps on his wrists and his wavy, close-cropped hair sweeping just slightly to the left, he had like a whole Captain America vibe going, like a goddamn slice of apple pie. A hot little slice –

"You've been watching Mean Girls again," Stevie mumbles from across the study table. She and David are crammed into one of the wobbly-legged ones in the far back corner of the library. Their plan had been to cram for the Calc exam they’d collectively forgotten about and/or denied the existence of. By now it was probably too late for them to learn the material in time, David realizes, but they could at least snipe at each other over a pile of books and hope to glean something via osmosis.

David had gotten so swept up in his daydream that he'd forgotten she was there, to be honest. The fact that he was speaking, out loud, and waxing poetic about what Patrick Brewer’s forearms looked like in a cheer uniform had also briefly slipped his mind. He refused to show embarrassment in front of Stevie though. To show embarrassment was to show weakness.

"I can't help it,” he tells her instead. “It speaks to my soul. That movie was written about my life, I swear."

"I get it. You're Regina George."

David’s eyes are all _'bitch, please'_ as he glares at her across the table.

"Okay, if I'm anyone, I'm Tina Fey," he asserts, and Stevie huffs a laugh. "Besides, what movie is based on your life? The Grudge?"

"I do enjoy a good creepy ghost aesthetic," she acquiesces. "You're changing the subject."

David pretends to find something particularly interesting in the book closest to him and copies it into his notes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he says.

"Patrick. Your slice of pie guy." She waits for David to meet her eyes again before adding, "You should ask him out."

David squints at her. "Mhm, and why – why would I do that?"

"Because he's cute? And you like him? And, I don't know, he's a nice guy?"

"Exactly," David says as though he’s caught Stevie trying to trick him. "He's _nice._ I wouldn't even know what to do with that."

The bell rings, and Stevie shoots him a flat look as they gather up their things.

"David, if you don't know what to do with a hot guy on a date, then I have seriously misjudged who you are as a person."

David holds the door for her as they exit the library.

"Mmkay, jump in front of a train, please."

Stevie absolutely cackles as they head in opposite directions down the hall. "See you at practice, Regina!"

"It's Tina. I'm Tina!" David corrects, turning to look back over his shoulder. It's then he locks eyes with Mr. Apple Pie himself, Patrick Brewer. He arches an eyebrow at David as he walks by, an amused smirk playing on his lips. 

David continues to class, saying a silent prayer of thanks to whoever-the-fuck for his Mediterranean skin tone, otherwise he'd be five shades of red right now.

"'I'm Tina,’ is what I just said in front of that person," he mutters to himself.

Honestly? Fuck Stevie. 

++++++

Once the school day has drawn to a close, David makes his way to the band room for color guard practice. He hasn't forgotten the ‘I'm Tina’ incident in front of Patrick. Oh no, that one will rear its ugly head just as he's about to fall asleep for years to come, of that he’s sure. Still, he doesn’t see a point in holding a grudge against Stevie, even though the whole situation is obviously her fault, so when he reaches the room where all the color guard gear is stowed, he throws himself into the chair beside Stevie, and launches into his latest rant with absolutely no preamble.

"Mr. Ertlinger wore those fucking brown braided sandals with black slacks again, Stevie, like, what are we even doing? How am I supposed to take business advice from a man who puts so little effort into his appearance?"

"He teaches high school business courses in Schitt's Creek, David." Stevie doesn’t look up from where she’s carving a vulgar missive into the back of the empty chair in front of her. "I wouldn't take business advice from him if he was dressed tip to toe in Tom Ford." 

"I see your point."

"Okay, people," Ray claps his hands at the front of the room to quiet them down. It doesn't work, since no one listens to Ray at the best of times. As always, Ray pretends not to notice that everyone's talking over him, and cheerily continues, "I know we're all focused on the regional competition next month, but for the next few practices we’ll be shifting gears in order to prep for the halftime performance at the big game on Friday!" He punctuates the last two words with a jazz hands flourish as a chorus of groans fills the room. David turns to Stevie.

"What big game?" he asks her.

"The... football game?” Stevie’s looking at him incredulously. “It's homecoming, David. Kind of a big deal?"

"Oh, I don't know what that is. We have to go to that?"

"Well, we're performing at halftime. So yeah, we have to be there."

"What if we don't go?"

"I mean, knowing Ray, probably nothing, but why would you not go? It's just a performance; we do them all the time."

"No, god, I'm not nervous about performing.” David waves her off. “I look amazing in that bedazzled leotard. But, like, it sounds dumb?"

"Yeah, no, it definitely is," Stevie affirms. "But it's also tradition. The town really gets into it, and… I don't know, it's like an hour tops, and then it's over." If David didn’t know her better, he’d swear Stevie sounds kind of… into it?

"Okay," he says, still not seeing the appeal.

"There's also a dance."

"What, like people come out onto the football court and do a dance?"

"It's a football field; I think you know that. And no, I mean a school dance. In the cafeteria, after the game."

"Ew."

"You don't have to go."

David thinks about it. A dance could be fun. Okay, not _fun_. Not like he used to have fun before he moved out here to East Nowhere. But, it could be fun by Schitt's Creek standards. He could dress up. He could probably sneak in booze. And maybe certain people, or like one person specifically, would also be in attendance.

"Well, are you going to go?" he asks Stevie.

"Ehh," Stevie shrugs noncommittally, which David knows is what she does when she's into something but doesn't want anyone to know she's into it. "Maybe."

David purses his lips. He is also kind of into this dance idea and also doesn't want anyone to know that he's into it. "Well, Alexis is probably going," he sighs. "And she's probably going to want a ride home, anyway, so..."

"So... _you're_ gonna go?" Stevie asks quietly, casually.

"I mean, if Alexis does."

Stevie nods. "Well, I could come and hang out with you if you do."

"That would be pleasant."

"Agreed."

Ray is waving them out toward the practice field, and David allows himself to be carried along in the swell of the crowd.

"And what does one wear to these things?" he calls to Stevie, who's a few feet in front of him now. "Is it strictly black tie, or more black tie casual, or...?" Stevie smirks at him.

"I'm sure whatever you choose will be fine."

+++++

David is royally fucked. Why is everything happening to him all the time? He forgot that today was Tuesday, and on Tuesdays they shared the practice field. Which, whatever, it's fine. Color guard was not what you'd call a beloved sport in Schitt's Creek, so they were lucky to be given a space to practice at all.

No, sharing the field wasn't what was fucked. What was fucked was who they had to share it with.

"That's weird," Stevie says as soon as the cheerleading squad steps onto the field, and from the tone of her voice David can already tell she's fucking with him. "David, do you smell that?"

"I'm not engaging with this."

"I smell cinnamon, and," she sniffs the air, "could that be, all spice?"

"I'm not dignifying what you're doing with a response," David insists.

"You know, because those are spices one would use in an-"

"Apple pie, yes."

"-apple pie!"

"Got it, thanks so much."

With Stevie still cackling behind him, David spins around to take his place in the formation. He did not sign up to be harassed for having a smidge of a baby crush on some boy, okay? He simply didn’t deserve this haranguing.

He hears someone calling "David!" across the field and tries to ignore it. "David!" It echoes shrilly all around him, and his sister was never one to be ignored. "David, hey!"

"What?" he yells at her, flailing his arms wildly, and sure enough, Patrick is at Alexis’ side, watching their exchange with an amused smirk. Alexis had mentioned that Patrick had been moved to her stunt group after Miguel, the previous base, was mauled by a gang of puppies and had to have surgery. At least, David thinks that’s what happened. He'd been so busy pretending to be uninterested in the Patrick-related news that he didn't quite absorb everything she said. 

"Hey, you!" Alexis calls back, waving like they hadn't seen each other this morning in their shared room at the motel, and again in the lunchroom, and again when she stopped by his locker to "borrow" his Glossier after fifth period.

"Hey," he practically hisses and turns back around, watching his fellow guardsman to wait for his cue. Jesus, he hoped Patrick wasn't still watching him. It was too damn hot to be out here twirling around in a black sweater in front of one's crush. It simply wasn't done.

Throughout practice, it seemed like Patrick was watching him a lot, though. Or, watching them anyway, the color guard. Every time David glanced over to the opposite side of the field (which wasn't, like, _too_ much, he didn't think), it seemed like Patrick and Alexis were looking his way.

Oh my god, David wondered, what was she telling him? That David sometimes had night terrors? That he was afraid of spiders? That he didn't know how to ride a bike until a scant two months ago?

"Ciao, David!” Ray is waving at him now from the front of the formation. “We're over here! What has got you so distracted today?" And yes, David supposes he has made a few (series of) mistakes. God, could the ground please just swallow him up already? He glances over, but Patrick is lifting Alexis into the air, both of them smiling sunnily, so he didn't think they'd heard Ray call him out. 

By the end of practice, David is so flustered that he’s halfway back to the band room before he realizes he's left his rifle. He waves goodbye to Stevie and heads back to grab it.

When he reaches the field, he finds Patrick sitting on the bench he'd left his rifle leaning against. Patrick is unwrapping his wrists and stuffing the tape into a duffel bag at his feet. David considers writing his rifle off, maybe even quitting color guard altogether and moving across the country, when he hears his name.

"David, hey." Patrick has spotted him; there’s no chance for escape now.

"Hey," he says. "Forgot my rifle."

"Yeah, I figured it was yours." David quirks his brow quizzically and Patrick clarifies, “It has the Gucci logo, like, bedazzled onto its handle?"

"Oh."

"Yeah,” Patrick chuckles, “kind of a dead giveaway."

David gives Patrick a small smile and moves to grab his gun and (not run, not run) walk back inside at a normal, casual pace, but Patrick's voice stops him again.

"Did you have a good practice?"

David scrutinizes Patrick’s expression. Did he not see the practically _hundreds_ of times David missed a step or dropped his flag today? He doesn’t find any sarcasm or judgment on Patrick's face, though. Just friendly curiosity.

"Umm yeah, I guess. We're supposed to perform at this halftime thing, so our routine's a little different than usual, and I guess I'm... struggling with that a bit," David admits. 

"Yeah, we're doing something at halftime, too." Patrick nods in understanding. "Not as big as your performance, obviously, but we want to do something special for the crowd for homecoming, so. I'm pretty nervous, too, to tell you the truth." He gives a rueful little laugh, self-deprecating, and David finds it achingly cute.

"Alexis says you're amazing, though," David offers before he can stop himself.

Patrick brightens, the upturned corners of his mouth spreading into a full-fledged smile.

"Really?"

David's a little concerned about how happy he is to have been the one to make Patrick smile like that. This is supposed to be a stupid little baby crush, dammit. Nevertheless, he finds himself smiling too.

"Way better than Miguel," he assures, nodding.

"Nice," Patrick laughs, standing and flinging his duffel over his shoulder. He's changed into flip flops, and David's a little smitten with how effortless and unguarded he looks like this. _Nice. ‘He's nice_ ,' Stevie's voice echoes in his head. 

"Need a ride home?" Patrick asks, and David wants, very badly, to say yes. But he's pretty sure Alexis is waiting for him in the parking lot; they always ride home together on Tuesdays. He tells Patrick as much and tells himself that the way Patrick's eyebrow creases probably isn't disappointment, but rather due to the glare of the sun in his eyes. "Oh, okay. Well, I'll walk you to your car."

"That's very chivalrous of you," David says, feels dumb for saying it, and then feels less dumb when he sees Patrick's answering smile. He could get addicted to making this man smile, seriously.

They reach the parking lot and David has to work very hard not to grimace at the way Alexis waggles her eyebrows suggestively and says, “Oh, hey boys.” 

"I'll see you tomorrow, right?” Patrick calls to him as he’s unlocking the car door. “At the YEC meeting?"

David gives him a small, bashful smile and a nod.

"Definitely."


	2. Wednesday #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Want to be partners?"

The Young Entrepreneurs Club, or YEC, meets on Wednesdays in a part of the school that seems very likely to be haunted. The lights sometimes flicker, it's always either too cold or too hot irrespective of the temperature throughout the rest of the building, and everything seems to be covered with the thinnest sheen of grime, or what David assumes must be the residue of past students’ decaying hopes and dreams.

It was Jocelyn's and his father’s fault that he was even in the dumb club in the first place.

"Young Entrepreneur's Club," Johnny had said, when Jocelyn invited David and Alexis to join. "That sounds promising. Doesn't it, kids?"

Jocelyn was the staff advisor of the YEC, and, as far as David could tell, the whole thing had been her idea. She must’ve assumed that the offspring of Johnny Rose would be good assets for such a club, but Alexis, as it turned out, was not an ideal candidate and dropped out after the first meeting.

Though he swore he didn’t see the point in it, David somehow kept coming back every week. Truthfully, he felt like he might be getting, dare he say it, useful information from the topics they discussed. Secretly, he also appreciated that Patrick was one of like six other people in the group, so it was the best chance he had to get some face time. Not that he ever took advantage of that chance.

“Okay, guys, I have a really exciting announcement to share with you,” Jocelyn announces. “I’ve decided what our next club project will be, and I think you’re going to really like it!”

“We’re not selling cookie dough again, are we?” Ted asks, grimacing. “Because I ate way too much product last time, and I _dough not_ recommend it.” 

“Nope, this isn’t another fundraiser.” Jocelyn shakes her head. “It’s a competition, and you will all have the chance to win” – she pauses for dramatic effect – “one hundred dollars!”

The atmosphere in the room changes, a tentative buzz of energy filling the air. David straightens in his seat, and he notices Patrick, seated in front of him, do the same. One hundred dollars. That’s not nothing.

But with Jocelyn, David knows from experience, there’s usually a catch.

“What’s the competition?” he asks.

“Well, you’ll partner into teams of two. Each partnership will be responsible for creating an idea for a new business – you’ll research everything from startup capital to product development to marketing. Then, at next week’s meeting, you’re going to present your ideas to a panel of prominent business leaders from the community, and they’ll select the winning idea!”

“And we get a hundred dollars if we win?” Twyla asks.

Jocelyn nods. “Yep, a hundred-dollar gift card.”

Wait.

“A hundred-dollar _gift card_ or a hundred dollars?” David presses.

“A one-hundred-dollar gift card to the Café Tropical!” Jocelyn is beaming, though the energy in the air noticeably deflates a little. David glances at Ted, who looks disappointed but shrugs his shoulders at David as if to say, ‘at least it’s something.’

And David agrees. There may be miles of distance between one hundred dollars and a one-hundred-dollar gift card to the café, but it’s still free food. David finds the whole idea for the project kind of engaging, to be honest. It’s very Shark Tank-esque.

Patrick’s shoulders are a taut line in front of David as he scribbles notes into his notepad. He turns around while Jocelyn is handing out a brief with all the specifics of the project.

"Want to be partners?" he asks David, pitching his voice low. David's breath catches in his chest, just a bit. This is just like when Aaron Samuels asked what day it was, he thought to himself.

"Umm sure." The words are out of his mouth before he can even think about how awkward it might be to work on something like this with the person you have a tiny little barely-there crush on.

"Okay, cool," Patrick says. Patrick turns back around and waits until Jocelyn has finished, then fires his hand into the air. "Mrs. Schitt? David and I are going to be partners."

"That's great, Patrick," Jocelyn replies, jotting their names down onto her clipboard. She beams at David as Patrick turns his desk around. David gets in a quick eye roll at her boundless enthusiasm before he's got Patrick sat right in front of him, an expectant look on his face.

"So, what should our business be?" Patrick asks.

"I'm sure I have no idea," David says. "What do people like to buy around here? Frozen convenience foods and polyblends on clearance?"

"Pretty much, yeah,” Patrick nods. “But, that's also what's available here. Which means there's a bit of a gap in the marketplace, right?"

 _Oh no_ , David realizes. Patrick, like, _knows things_ about business. See, this is why David doesn't like group work. There's always someone in the group who knows everything, and he hates when it isn't him.

"I don't know what that is," he tells Patrick honestly, and Patrick has the unmitigated gall to smile fondly at him.

"It means if we offered something people want but don't have access to here, we could make a lot of money," he says simply.

"Fake money,” David feels the need to point out. “For our fake product to fill the fake gap in the fake marketplace."

"I don't know, a one-hundred-dollar gift card doesn’t sound too fake to me,” Patrick counters. “You can buy a lot of real mozzarella sticks with that much money."

David hums noncommittally as he tries to think of a "product" to fill this alleged "gap" in the alleged "marketplace." He's determined to look smart in front of Patrick, dammit.

"Hey, do you think the winners each get a hundred dollars, or they have to share?" Patrick asks.

"Unclear."

"I guess it wouldn't be that bad if we had to share it,” Patrick reasons. “We could just, like, I don’t know… have dinner together at the café a couple times? Could be fun."

"Yeah, sure," David nods.

He glances up and notices that Patrick is looking kind of flushed. It _is_ hotter than normal in this grimy hellmouth of a classroom today.

"Are you okay?" he asks. "You look hot, do you want some of my Pellegrino?"

"What? No, I'm fine."

“Your face is red though,” David tells him, concerned.

“I’m fine, David.” And if anything Patrick looks redder, unsettled, as he cards a hand through his short hair. The bell rings, and Patrick stands abruptly.

"Okay, well let's keep thinking of ideas, and we can talk later." He's halfway to the door before he's even finished speaking, trying and failing repeatedly to shove his notepad into his bag. He slips out the door before David can even say goodbye. 

+++++

"I mean, that's weird, right?"

David is hiding out with Stevie on the back stairs by the staff entrance like they do every day at lunch when it’s too hot or rainy to be outside. David has finished his Cheetos and pizza, plus most of Stevie’s fries if he’s honest, and has just finished relating the YEC meeting and Patrick’s antics.

He’d been kind of worried about Patrick through first and second periods. He wondered if maybe Patrick was coming down with something and would miss his chance to perform with the other cheer people at the big game. Though possessing a valid excuse to skip homecoming sounded like a dream come true to David, he knew Patrick was the kind of person who would probably feel bad about letting his team down or something equally cute. 

When he saw Patrick in the hall after second period, though, Patrick had waved and smiled at him across the throng of people, and he looked good. Fine, David corrected himself, he looked fine. But the sudden rushing off had seemed odd and off-brand for Patrick, David thought, so here he was, relating everything to Stevie on the off chance she might be able to provide some insight.

“It’s weird,” she agrees with him, nodding her head. “Especially for Patrick. I mean, he’s always so amiable and…”

“Nice?” David offered.

“Nice. He would never rush off like that; it’s kind of rude.”

“I mean, I wouldn't call it rude.” David picks at a pilled spot on his jeans. “Just, like, weird.”

Stevie is quiet for a minute, thinking, and David takes the opportunity to pop another fry into his mouth.

“What were you guys talking about right before again?” she asks.

“Nothing! I was trying to think of a dumb idea for this dumb project, and Patrick was asking if we had to share the gift card if we won.”

“And he asked if you wanted to have dinner with him.”

“What? No. He said,” David tries to remember. He’s pretty sure Patrick did NOT ask him to have dinner with him. “He said that, if we had to share, we could just have dinner at the café a few times. Like at the same time.”

Stevie gives him a meaningful look, arching an eyebrow. “Together.”

“No, like – well, yeah, together, but like, just coincidentally. For sharing purposes. Not like, together,” David waves his hands vaguely, “in _that_ way.”

Stevie goes quiet again, and David hates when she goes all stoic and unreadable on him. Why did he tell her again? He should’ve gone to Alexis. She’s actually very astute when it comes to boy behavior. Wait, no, she’s teammates with Patrick. He can never, ever go to Alexis about this. 

David scrolls through his phone and pretends he’s not waiting for Stevie to speak. Finally, after eons have passed, she says, “He was probably just in a hurry to get to class.”

“Yeah,” David says, like he’s only ever thought the exact same thing.

“And he was flushed because it’s hot in there, and he’s like the palest of pale boys.”

“Right.”

The bell rings then, telling them the lunch repast is over, and David gathers up his trash. By the time he’s thrown everything away and finished brushing Cheeto dust from his sweater, the door is swinging closed behind Stevie’s retreating form.

“Okay, byee,” David says to the empty stairwell.

+++++

His lunchtime confab with Stevie hasn’t helped anything, and David feels increasingly paranoid as the afternoon wears on. He’s leaving U.S. history when he happens to see Patrick and Stevie come spilling out of the woodshop classroom, giggling together about something. What the fuck those two could have to be laughing and joking about, he honestly has no idea. Alexis comes bounding up to his locker while he’s still grimacing about it.

“Ew, David, what’s wrong with your face?”

“Nothing. I’m just having, like, a weird day.”

“Okay, well, stop frowning before you get a wrinkle, and also I need to borrow your eyebrow gel.”

“Well, you can’t.”

Alexis stamps her foot. “It’s not my fault, David! We’re playing kickball in gym this week, and no matter how hard I try not to exert myself, I always end up looking rough after.”

“Okay, it’s not that. You can’t borrow my brow gel because you have not yet returned it from the previous time you borrowed it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, so.” He gives her a pointed look.

“Hey, David. Alexis.” Patrick of course takes that exact moment to breeze by all breezily and smile at the both of them on his way to class. David smiles back, but it feels too tight on his face. He reaches into his locker to grab a book.

“Oh my God, David,” Alexis slap his arm. “Why didn’t you tell me _that_ was happening?”

“What?”

“You and Patrick, being all cute and flirty like a couple of cute little cutie pies.” She bounces up on the balls of her feet, looking as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Umm because it isn’t. We’re not.”

Alexis blinks at him in the broken winking way she has. “Mmkay, yeah. Got it. Keeping it chill.”

“No, not chill. Non-existent. Not happening.”

“But he’s like totally into you, David." Alexis lays a hand on her heart. "I mean, I _personally_ don’t get it, but he told me-” she clamps her lips together.

“He told you what? What did he tell you?” David tries and fails to keep his voice even. He squints at his sister.

Alexis shakes her head from side to side and squeaks a non-affirmative noise. David straightens at that. His sister rarely keeps her mouth shut about anything. What could Patrick have possibly said to her that she wouldn’t repeat to him? Something about being in to him? Something about them flirting? That seemed unlikely, but what else was he supposed to think?

He leans against his locker, crossing his arms and pinning Alexis in his stare.

“What did Patrick tell you, Alexis?”

“He… did not… tell me… anything. So,” she punctuates each phrase with a little poke to his arm. “I’m going to class now.”

“Alexis,” David can hear his voice rising half an octave with each word as she walks away but is unable to stop it. “What did he tell you?”

“I’m leaving now, David!”

++++

On his way to guard practice David is practically vibrating out of his skin with nervous energy. What the hell was with everyone today? Patrick had been super friendly and nice at YEC, then he’d turned all red and made that cringey exit. Yet when they passed each other in the hall he seemed fine. And after his conversation with Stevie about it, David had neither seen nor heard from her for the rest of the day, other than glimpsing her with Patrick, who was apparently her new BFF. And then even Alexis was acting weirder than usual, which David didn’t know was possible.

He half expected someone to jump out and yell “You’ve been punk’d!” as he walked into the band room. Was that even a thing; did people even get Punk’d anymore? He didn’t know, but at this point it felt like a possibility.

He takes a seat at the end of the lower row, furthest from where he and Stevie have their reserved seats in the upper corner where they can judge everyone and talk shit in peace.

“Hey, David!” the girl beside him says cheerily. He thinks her name is… Grace? Can that be right? She sings in the school choir and seems enthusiastic yet quiet, which makes her basically David’s polar opposite, so he hadn’t spoken to her much.

“Hey,” he says, settling in to his seat and casting a cold glare toward his and Stevie’s corner, where his usual best friend but occasional best frenemy is seated. Stevie stares back with an amused smirk on her face.

“Okay, everyone, we still have a lot of prep work to do for Friday’s halftime performance,” Ray informs them cheerfully. “We had some missteps yesterday–” he chuckles in David’s general direction and David crosses his arms “–so if we could just focus a little more during practice today that would be great!”

Ray clenches his fists gleefully in front of himself. Half the guard have already started gathering their gear and heading for the door before he's even finished speaking.

David uses his height advantage to ensure Stevie can’t catch up with his long strides on the way to the practice field, so she must actually run to catch up to him, because before he knows it she’s chirping over his shoulder like an obnoxious little bird.

“Are you mad at me for some reason?”

“What? No, why would you think I was mad?” David keeps his voice breezy and doesn’t even turn around.

“You sat with Grace? You’re not even friends with her.”

Grace, who is actually still very much within earshot, casts them a hurt glance.

“Sorry,” Stevie says over David’s, “That’s not true, Grace.”

David pauses a moment to put some distance between the rest of the guard and himself and Stevie. He starts marching again as he calls back over his shoulder, “I’m not the only one making new friends, though, am I?”

“Who told you about that?”

“Told me? No one told me, I saw you two in shop class.”

Stevie stops walking, so David stops too and turns to face her.

“You…” she pitches her voice low, even though it’s just the two of them in the corridor now. “You saw that?”

David feels his stomach tense. He hadn’t seriously thought she had something going with Patrick. She knew David was into him; she wouldn’t do that. But she looks caught out, defensive, and now he’s not so sure.

“Yeah,” he shrugs, crossing his arms. “I saw the two of you come out of the shop, practically arm-in-arm, laughing your little heads off.”

Stevie looks lost for a moment, then her face contorts, and she throws her head back and laughs. David feels a little silly and a lot pissed as he stands there, waiting for her laughter to die down.

“Wait – wait,” she bends over, taking in big, gulping breaths. Mmkay bit of an overreaction, David wants to say. Finally, she settles enough to continue, though the amusement is still obvious on her face and in her voice. “Patrick? You’re talking about Patrick?”

“Yes, Patrick.” David puts his hand on his hips. “I didn’t even know you guys were friends, but you looked very much like two characters out of an Odd Couple-esque buddy cop film when I saw you together.”

“David, we were just talking!” She starts walking again and he falls into step beside her. “We’ve always been friendly to each other in shop class, but we weren’t like friends friends. So I thought today I should try to get to know him a little better. He’s actually really funny.”

Her voice is so casual David wants to slap her. She wanted to get to know Patrick a little better so she just… talked to him? And apparently he’s really funny? David is weirdly pissed that she knows that about Patrick when he himself did not.

“So, what, you guys are just friends now?” He tries to keep the irritation out of his voice.

Stevie shrugs. “Yeah, kinda. I mean, we’re going to homecoming together, so-“

“You fucking what?!”

Stevie laughs again. “David! I’m messing with you! We’re not going to the dance together.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Yeah, we agreed dances are stupid, so we’re just gonna get a room at the motel after the game, pop open a bottle of zhampagne, and see where it takes us, you know?”

“Okay, please get eaten by a bear.”

“We’re just friends!” she says again, unaware that even that allowance has David’s stupid little heart all tense and jealous. “He is planning to go to the dance, though,” she informs him. “And when I asked if he had a date, he said no. And when I asked if there was anyone he wanted to ask or to ask him, he turned this weird shade of red and got all noncommittal and wouldn’t look straight at me.”

“Oh, well, that’s fine. I mean,” David waves his hands, adopting an air of casual dismissiveness, “I don’t know why you would think that I need to know any of that information, but okay.”

“Like, even his ears got red,” Stevie continues as though he’s said nothing. “It was cute, if I’m honest. I get why you like him.”

“I do not like-“

“And, based on our conversation in shop, he _definitely_ likes someone.”

“Okay,” David says again. He has no idea how he’s supposed to respond to _that_.

“David, Stevie! Ciao!” Ray calls as they finally make it on to the practice field. The rest of the guard seem to be halfway through warm ups already. “Do you think you could join us for practice maybe? If not, that’s fine!” he chuckles.

David starts his stretches, feeling like a weight’s been lifted. So Stevie and Patrick aren’t, like… (‘ _canoodling’_ his father’s voice supplies in his head, which, ugh). They’re just friends. Stevie had even interrogated Patrick about the dance and discovered that he maybe had a crush on someone. Not that David believed for one second that someone could be him. Although, what had Alexis said?-

–Suddenly, a question occurs to him.

“Stevie?”

“Yeah,” she breathes, stretching beside him.

“Who did you think I was talking about?”

“What?”

“When I said I saw you and Patrick together in shop. You thought I was talking about someone else.”

“Uhh, no I didn’t.”

“You said ‘how did you know about that?’ like it was some big secret.”

“David, we need to focus on practice,” she says sternly.

David chooses not to push it, because he knows from experience that the best way to get a secret out of Stevie is a) to get her drunk, which he’ll probably have the perfect opportunity to do at the homecoming dance, or b) to catch her off guard. Either way, now isn’t the time. But he’ll get it out of her, eventually.

++++++++++

Later that night, David is trying, really he is, to study for his Calc test when the notification pops up on his phone:

**Jaysfan87: Hi, David?**

Schitt’s Creek is so off in its own universe that the high school even has its own messaging platform for the students to use. David had rolled his eyes the first time one of his teachers had told him about the app, the astonishingly named _SchittTalk_ , but he found that it was actually pretty useful for facilitating group work. And, they were allowed to make up their own usernames.

**xtinaloverrr02: who is this?**

**Jaysfan87: Patrick :)**

David’s hands still on his phone. Seriously, _a smiley face emoticon_? Patrick cannot be a real person.

**xtinaloverrr02: hey**

**Jaysfan87: Alexis gave me your username, I hope that's okay.**

David glances at the bed beside him. Alexis is on her phone, her earbuds firmly in place. David can just barely hear the tinny music.

**xtinaloverrr02: yes it's fine**

**xtinaloverrr02: what's up?**

**Jaysfan87: I thought maybe we should talk about the project, for YEX?**

**Jaysfan87: *YEC**

**xtinaloverrr02: oh um yeah okay**

**Jaysfan87: Have you come up with anything? All I could think of today was a hot dog stand, but I think that's just because I was really hungry in homeroom.**

**xtinaloverrr02: um**

**Jaysfan87: It's a terrible idea, obviously.**

**xtinaloverrr02: oh thank god. i thought you actually wanted us to open a hypothetical hotdog stand together.**

**Jaysfan87: Ha, that sounds like a euphemism for something.**

**xtinaloverrr02: what?**

**Jaysfan87: Nothing, nvm.**

David had been pondering an idea, but now he was almost embarrassed to mention it. What if Patrick thought it – and by extension, David himself – was stupid?

**xtinaloverrr02: i did think of something, actually.**

**Jaysfan87: Really?**

**xtinaloverrr02: i mean idk if you'd wanna do it or not.**

**Jaysfan87: What is it?**

**xtinaloverrr02: what about, like, a general store?**

**Jaysfan87: Okay**

**xtinaloverrr02: yeah, but then like, also a very specific store. more like an immersive experience, really.**

**Jaysfan87: What kind of specific store, though?**

It takes David a few attempts, typing and then erasing, before he can put his idea into a coherent explanation.

**xtinaloverrr02: we would source products made by local vendors and artisans, gather them under a single brand umbrella, then resell them to the consumer**

**Jaysfan87: Oh that sounds cool actually.**

**xtinaloverrr02: yeah? and we could do other stuff too, like we could sell coffee and artisan baked goods and confections, and we could host events, like mindfulness workshops and craft tutorials and whatnot**

**Jaysfan87: Yes! And open mic nights.**

And, yes, clearly Patrick was not a real person, because what type of person would want to voluntarily participate in, let alone _host_ , an open mic night? Good thing this was all hypothetical because that would be absolutely incorrect in a real life scenario.

**xtinaloverrr02: um sure**

**xtinaloverrr02: we would consider all different types of functions.**

**Jaysfan87: David, I think this is a great idea.**

**xtinaloverrr02: you don't think it's dumb or like too much?**

**Jaysfan87: No! I think its on a whole other level from what anyone else will be doing. In a good way. I think we could have a shot of winning this thing!**

**xtinaloverrr02: oh okay**

Patrick’s enthusiasm has David biting his lip to keep from grinning at his screen like an idiot. This project is going to be really easy if Patrick’s going to humor him every step of the way like this.

**xtinaloverrr02: so what should we do next then, do you think?**

**Jaysfan87: Well, you're obviously the creative genius behind this idea, so I think you should write something up about the products, like how we'd acquire them, how we'd rebrand them, etc.**

David jots a few things down in his notepad. He clearly is not going to be getting any studying done for his test tonight, but he finds he doesn’t mind too much.

**xtinaloverrr02: yeah, i could do that.**

**Jaysfan87: And I'll write up the business plan and get started on our budget.**

**xtinaloverrr02: yeah no, that should definitely be you.**

**Jaysfan87: Can you meet me tomorrow to work on it?**

**xtinaloverrr02: um sure. i'm taking alexis in the morning so i can’t really meet you before school though**

**Jaysfan87: Oh I assumed as much. You're not a morning person anyway.**

**xtinaloverrr02: that is correct. um and also i have practice after school.**

**Jaysfan87: Same. Lunch?**

**xtinaloverrr02: what like skip lunch?**

**Jaysfan87: lol no, David. Like have lunch together and work on the project at the same time.**

**Jaysfan87: I believe the kids call it a working lunch.**

**xtinaloverrr02: oh, yeah. yes. i could do that.**

**Jaysfan87: I'll see you then :)**

Two, yes TWO smiley faces? Unironically? Who is this monster of a person?

**xtinaloverrr02: yep see you then.**

**Jaysfan87: Goodnight, David.**

**xtinaloverrr02: night, patrick.**

"Uuuuuggggghhhhh," David groans into his pillow. The sound makes Alexis pull one of the buds from her ear.

“What, David?” she asks. He sits up and blinks at her.

“What have you been saying to Patrick about me?”

“Um, which time?”

David groans again. “Well, you told him my username without asking me first. He also said that he knew I wasn’t a morning person? How would he know that?”

“David, please. Like you would’ve said no to him knowing you username,” Alexis turns her attention back to her phone, clearly over David’s histrionics. “And he probably knows you’re not a morning person because he’s seen you literally dragging your half-dead ass into school every morning, clutching onto you coffee for dear life and wearing your sunglasses indoors? Like, he has eyes, David.”

She has a point; David is pretty obvious about his hatred of mornings. But if Patrick had noticed that, how was it possible that David hadn’t _noticed_ him noticing?

"Oh. Well, what did Patrick tell you?" he asks by way of response.

"What?" Alexis’s short attention span is already starting to shift from him.

"Patrick!" David raises his voice.

"Ugh, what _about_ him, David!?"

"Today you said he told you something about me."

Alexis finally tears her eyes from Instagram to look at him. "Yeah, so?"

"What was it?" David enunciates every syllable.

Alexis huffs out a long sigh. "I don't know, he said you were nice."

"Nice?" David hisses the word, squinting at her. Not something David's ever been called before.

"Yeah, or like cute or something. Sweet?" Alexis seems genuinely confused now. "Or maybe he said you were tall."

"He said I was tall?"

"I don't remember because I wasn't actually listening. But it was definitely about you, and it was positive, I'm pretty sure."

"Okay well, that is not helpful."

"Why do you care, anyway? I thought you said you didn't like him."

"What? I never said that. I said that nothing was going on between us."

Alexis is already staring at her phone again. "That's what I said."

David rolls his eyes. How they even came from the same gene pool is beyond him. He gathers his sleeping clothes and face product. He wants to take a nice, luxurious shower and do a full skincare routine before he starts on the business project. He needs to look his best for tomorrow.

"David," Alexis calls just as he's closing the bathroom door.

"What?"

Alexis is looking right at him now, her phone lowered and a small smile pulling at one corner of her mouth. "I like him for you."

"Don't care," he says, pulling the door closed behind him, but he can't help the smile that blooms on his own face.


	3. Thursday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I believe the kids call it a working lunch."

The next morning goes by in a blur as David counts down the minutes until lunch. He can't remember the last time he both looked forward to and dreaded something so much simultaneously.

When he attempts to casually relate his and Patrick's exchange to Stevie in first period, she only laughs a little bit when she says, "I freakin' knew it."

"Knew what?"

"That Patrick was into you."

"No, he really isn't."

"Oh, he really is though."

"He didn't tell you that," David doesn’t phrase it like a question but it comes out sounding like one anyway. 

"He didn't have to. It's all over his face every time you're around. It'd be kind of pathetic, actually, if it wasn't for the fact that your big dumb face is just as bad."

"Okay, I did not ask to be insulted. I was merely informing you of a conversation that transpired."

"And I'm merely informing _you_ that he wants to get all up in your pants."

"Oh my god,” David flails. “ _That's_ an overreaction."

"Oh, he'll be overreacting alright." She winks at him, waggling her eyebrows suggestively, and he has to fight the urge to laugh at her.

"What does that even mean?"

"Not sure,” Stevie shrugs. “There's definitely an entendre in there somewhere, though."

++++

Stevie’s insinuations fresh in his mind, David doesn’t know how he’ll be able to look Patrick in the eye when he joins him for lunch. If his horrid best friend is to be believed, Patrick is practically in love with him. According to Alexis, though, he might have simply observed that David is tall. David doesn't know who to believe or trust, though he's willing to bet both women are somehow equally wrong about Patrick's feelings for David.

A bright smile breaks out over Patrick’s face when he spots David weaving through the crowd in the cafeteria, though, and David realizes it’s time to admit to himself that his own feelings for Patrick aren’t as barely-there as he's been saying. He likes Patrick. Quite a bit, he'd hedge at this point. Bizarrely, rather than stressing him right the fuck out like every other romantic entanglement he's had in his life, this revelation just makes him feel happy and warm.

"Hey," Patrick greets him, honest-to-god standing when David reaches the table like they’re in a Regency era period film. "I wasn't sure if you wanted lunch, or if you were bringing your own lunch, or if you’d already eaten, uh, so I just got a few different things."

He sweeps a hand toward the table, where David spies a grilled cheese sandwich, a slice of pizza, a boatful of fries with a cup of ketchup _and_ a cup of nacho cheese, two snack sized bags of chips, two sodas, two waters, an assortment of snack cakes, and a packet of Twizzlers.

Patrick is looking at him like he's waiting for some sort of affirmation, so David smiles and says, "Umm this is good" as he sits down.

"Okay, good. I mean, we can get something else if you'd rather-"

"Patrick,” David stops him, the corner of his mouth tilting up of its own accord, “I like to eat, but this is plenty, I promise. More than enough. It's very generous. Also I don't have any money so I can’t pay you back."

"Oh, well,” Patrick huffs a laugh and takes his seat across from David. “I wanted to buy you lunch since you're the one who came up with our business idea. And I may have asked Stevie for a few suggestions of what you liked."

In an act of betrayal, David’s face breaks into a full smile. "Well, you did very well. Thank you."

They tear into the food, David opting for the pizza while Patrick goes for the grilled cheese, and eat in companionable silence while David tries very hard to think of something to say.

“So, you like Jay-Z?”

Patrick gives him a blank stare, his eyebrow furrowing slightly.

“I – I don’t – he’s okay? You like Beyoncé, right?”

“I do like Beyoncé,” David confirms. Had Patrick been asking Stevie about his taste in music, too? “It’s just, your username: Jay’s fan. I assumed you meant Hova.”

“Oh, um,” Patrick chuckles, “no, it’s – it’s the Toronto Blue Jays, actually.”

Now it’s David’s turn to provide the blank stare.

“They’re a baseball team,” Patrick offers.

“Oh, I see,” David says softly.

“Yeah, my dad’s a big fan. We try to make it to a game together every season.”

“Sounds fun,” David turns his focus back to his pizza. So much for a conversation starter; David doesn't know anything about baseball. 

“It is, really fun.” Patrick is suddenly animated, leaning across the table and gesturing broadly with his hands. “You should come; you’d like it.”

“Have you been to the fall one yet?”

“…the what?”

“You said that you go every season. Have you been yet this season?”

“Uh, no. No, we have not been yet this season.” Patrick is smiling fondly at him again.

“Okay, well, that could be fun I guess.” David can’t imagine himself actually attending a baseball match, but if Patrick really wanted him to come… “Just let me know in advance if we do go," he says, half joking. "I’ll need to put together an appropriate look.”

“Will do.” Patrick’s got his elbow up on the table now and is propping his temple against his fist, looking at David strangely. David realizes a beat too late that he’s staring at Patrick and has to physically force himself to look away. He stuffs some cheese fries in his mouth and casts a glance at the other tables.

He’d told Stevie that he wouldn’t be able to meet her in the stairwell today, obviously, but he didn’t know who she was spending her lunch with in his place. He didn’t see her in the lunchroom, but Alexis was holding court at a table nearby with Klare, Twyla, and the rest of the cheer squad.

"So did you get any of the, um, the business-y stuff done for the project?” David asks Patrick, fidgeting in his seat. “The... budgeting and, umm...”

“The business plan?” The fond smile is back.

"Yes, the business plan.”

Patrick swallows the last of his grilled cheese. “I did, actually. I worked on it ‘til like 2 a.m. Could not sleep. I was too excited thinking about -,” he glances at David, then quickly away, “- the project, you know?”

David nods even though, no, he does not know. He’d fallen asleep as soon as his night cream had had a chance to absorb into his skin. He might’ve been nervous to have lunch with Patrick, but excitement about the project was not something that was keeping him up at night.

Patrick is pulling a folder out of his backpack, though, and starts spreading its contents out on the table in front of David. His “business plan” is like ten pages long, with elaborate charts and graphs that David doesn’t fully comprehend but which he, oddly, feels like his dad would be very enthusiastic about. 

“This is… comprehensive,” he says, arching an eyebrow.

“You think it’s too much?” Patrick’s gaze falls to the near-dissertation amount of paperwork on the table, the smile falling from his face. “It’s probably too much.”

“No, I don’t think it’s too much,” David assures him. “Jocelyn is going to lose her shit over this. And I’m sure the rest of the judge’s panel will too. I think you did really well.”

Patrick’s practically beaming at the praise, and maybe it’s all the carbs, but the warm, happy feeling inside David ratchets up a notch. A moment of comfortable silence passes as Patrick sips his soda and David shoves another few fries into his mouth, pretending to study one of the graphs Patrick put together.

“What about you?” Patrick asks.

“What?”

“Did you get a chance to work on the product details?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Kind of.” David pulls a slim folder from his attaché case and slides it across the table like he’s some sort of high profile attorney brokering a deal. Patrick opens the folder and looks inside.

David certainly hadn’t put as much effort into his part of the project as Patrick, but he had managed to accomplish a few things. He had a plan in place for how they would source their first line of (imaginary) products. He’d also pieced together a sampling of some options for repackaging and priced how much each one would theoretically cost. The thing he was most proud of, however, was the logo and label design he’d created. Using one of Alexis’s classier tattoos as inspiration, David had created a rose design for both the logo and the label. It had turned out pretty well, if he did say so himself.

“Rose Apothecary?” Patrick asks, looking up at him.

“Oh, I mean – it was just an idea,” David stammers. “I didn’t mean to name it just after me. We should probably come up with a name together- ”

“No, I like it. Rose Apothecary,” Patrick says again, like he’s trying it out, testing how it feels in his mouth. “It’s _just_ pretentious enough.”

“Mmkay, well, I don’t know if it’s pretentious so much as… timeless,” David counters.

“I like it," Patrick says again. "That’s the name of our business.” He's smiling at David like they really are about to create a business together. “So, okay,” he goes on, “I can put the final touches on the business plan now that I have your product info. We should probably create a mock-up of some of our marketing material. Oh, and it would help to have a test product or two.”

“I thought the products were imaginary.” David fiddles with the label on his bottle of water. 

“Yeah, no, it doesn’t have to be real. Just, how good would it look if we have little bottles and boxes and bags with our logo on them to set out at the pitch?”

Patrick’s enthusiasm is contagious, and David finds himself nodding along.

“That makes sense.”

“Do you think you could have these labels made up for real and get some packaging to stick them on?”

“Yes, I could do that.”

“Great. I know we’re both going to be super busy the next few days. Maybe we could coordinate some time this weekend to work on everything? And we could, um, we could have lunch again on Monday to nail down the final details?”

Patrick is acting so professional, David both wants to laugh at and is a little turned on by it, if he’s honest.

“Um, we could do lunch tomorrow too, though?” he suggests, trying to keep his voice normal-sounding.

“I have practice with the squad, actually, for the halftime show,” Patrick says. “Or I totally would.”

“Oh, right. I forgot about homecoming. Monday sounds great, then.”

Patrick cocks his head to the side, eyeing David appraisingly. “I’m getting the sense that you’re not that into homecoming, huh?”

“Guess I just don’t get what all the fuss is about,” David shrugs.

“Have you ever been to homecoming before?” Patrick asks. “Like, at your old school?”

“My old school did not do sports, or dances. I mean, we had the annual regatta gala, and the fundraiser for juvenile rhinoplasty, but other than that-“

Patrick chuckles again, amused. “Well, you might just be surprised by how much fun you have tomorrow night, David.”

“Oh, I very much doubt that ‘fun’ will be on the menu. First the football match, then Stevie’s dragging me to that dumb dance,” David waves a dismissive hand.

“Oh, you’re going? To – to the dance?”

“I mean, Stevie wanted to go,” David says in defense. All he needs right now is Patrick judging him for actually _wanting_ to go to some stupid dance. “And Alexis, so. Besides, at least it will be an excuse to wear something nice for once.”

“Yeah, totally. I’m, um, I’m going too,” Patrick raises one shoulder, a half shrug.

“Oh? Well, I’ll probably see you there.” David is the king of keeping his voice casual.

“I mean the cafeteria isn’t that big, so there’s a good chance.” Patrick keeps his expression and voice completely flat. David respects his commitment to sarcasm. 

“True.”

“Maybe we can hang out.” David searches Patrick’s face, looking for any indication that this too is sarcastic. But Patrick just looks friendly again, his eyebrows ticking up hopefully.

“…I would like that,” David confirms.

“Great.” Patrick smiles at him, and that warm fuzzy feeling is back. David wants to look around and see if anyone is staring at them, but it seems like the cafeteria is business as usual, even though David feels like his whole plane of existence just shifted.

Patrick wants to hang out with him at the dance. Patrick wants to, at the very least, be friends. Maybe. Hanging out at a dance is something you only do with your friends, right? ‘ _And potential love interests_ ,’ the voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Stevie supplies helpfully. David doesn’t even care which of those things he is to Patrick, though, because they’re going to hang out.

+++++

“So, tell me more about your lunch date.” Stevie bursts through the door to his motel room, a bulging black garbage bag in her arms.

"It wasn't a date," David insists, draping himself back onto his bed once she's inside. "It was a working lunch."

"I see." Stevie dumps the contents of the garbage bag unceremoniously onto Alexis's bed. They'd made plans to put together their respective looks for the homecoming dance, and David had instructed her to bring over her best stuff. He eyes the mountain of cheap fabric skeptically. Apparently she had disregarded his instruction.

"That's a lot of plaid," he observes.

"I know what I like," she replies, shrugging. Stevie nudges his legs off the bed and sits beside him, folding her legs underneath herself. "Don't change the subject. We were debriefing re: your date with Patrick."

David rolls his eyes and Stevie begins ticking off her fingers.

"He asked you to lunch. He _bought_ your food. He asked you to a baseball game-"

"Yeah, with his dad.” David interjects. “It was like a 'you should come along,' non-romantic invitation."

"Whatever,” Stevie shrugs again, “he wants to hang out with you again. Sounds pretty datey to me."

"And what about you?" David rolls onto his side, propping his head on his elbow. "Who did you spend your lunch with?"

Stevie stands, walks to Alexis’s bed, and starts picking through her clothes. "Nobody."

"Mhmm, so you weren't with super-secret mystery woodshop guy?"

"No, I was out...side. I was outside."

David scoops an errant gray t-shirt from the floor and whips it at her back. "You're a dirty liar."

"Shut up," he doesn't need to see her face to know she's blushing, and he can't help but think of another person he knows who has the tendency to redden at the drop of a hat. "Are you gonna help me choose an outfit or what?"

David joins her next to the plaid mountain. He holds a few tops up in front of her, picturing her in them.

"I'm not seeing anything we can use here," he says after a few minutes.

"Great, thanks."

"Where's that black dress?" he asks, digging through the pile like a golden retriever after a bone.

"What black dress?"

"That dress you wore, to Mutt's barn party? You looked hot in that."

"Umm that's not mine. That was Alexis's dress."

"Oh," David stops digging. "Okay, well, I can't find anything in Alexis's shitshow of a wardrobe. I'll have her pull it out for you when she comes home, and I'll bring it to you tomorrow." He settles back onto his bed and whips out his phone as Stevie resentfully starts shoving her clothes back into the garbage bag.

"And where is Alexis, anyway? I thought she'd be here, weighing in about how frumpy I am."

"Oh honey, you're not frumpy. Grungy, maybe-" He ducks to avoid the same gray t-shirt that Stevie chucks at his head. "She's at study group."

"Alexis is at study group?” Stevie gives him a look. “Alexis Rose?"

"Yeah, I don't know," he says dismissively. "She's been going every day she doesn't have practice."

"Who's in this study group?"

"I don't know, Stevie.” David waves his hands dramatically. What is she, a private detective all of a sudden? “Twyla maybe? The cheer squad?"

"Is Patrick in it?"

"I don't know!"

"Well, ask him. Text him."

"I'm not asking him, why would I ask him?"

"I don't know," Stevie ties up the bag and tosses it toward the door. "Because it's an excuse to talk to him?"

David's rebuttal to this clearly idiotic idea is interrupted when his phone pings.

_{Hey, what's the name of that Beyoncé song? The one about the girl with the high heels or whatever?}_

David stares at his phone, blinking. He and Patrick had exchanged numbers at lunch, to facilitate communication about the project, but so far they hadn't talked. Why was he texting him about Beyoncé?

"Why is he texting me about Beyoncé?" he says out loud.

"Who's texting you about Beyoncé?" Stevie cranes her neck, trying to see his screen, but he pulls his phone to his chest. Her mouth drops in an exaggerated surprised face, then spreads into a leering smile. "Patrick?"

"Yes," David breathes.

"What's he saying?"

"He wants to know the name of some random song."

"See?” Stevie smiles again. “He's doing it."

"Doing what?"

"Finding an excuse to talk to you."

"No, he's not," David punches out instinctively. He knows, rationally, that Stevie's not teasing him. That she's happy he and Patrick are... friends? But he can't help but feel defensive anyway; it’s his comfort zone.

"David, he could have googled the song. He didn't need to ask you. He was looking for an excuse."

David looks down at his phone again. Maybe Stevie's right, or maybe Patrick really did just ask him because he knew that David would know. Either way, Patrick is texting him. He has to think a moment before he remembers which song it is. 

**{6 inch}**

_{Thanks. I'm looking into her oeuvre now}_

**{oh? i thought you were more of a jay z guy.}**

He pulls a few items from his closet as he waits to see if Patrick will text back. In his head, he already has an idea of what he wants to wear, but he feels like he needs some input from Stevie. He’s never been to a small town dance before, and the stakes feel oddly higher now.

His phone dings and he drops his knits onto the bed, practically diving for his phone. As he picks it up, it dings again.

_{Lol that is the rumor going around.}_

_{You having a good night?}_

**{yeah, stevie's here. we're putting together our looks for the dance.}**

Stevie pulls out one of David's more casual sweaters, a deep charcoal one that almost looks blue in certain light. "I like this one," she tells him. "Makes your eyes look nice."

"Hmm it's a bit more informal than what I had in mind," he counters.

"It's a high school dance, David. Not the Met gala."

His phone dings in his hand.

_{Sounds fun. I won't bother you guys. Good luck with your performance tomorrow, if I don't see you before then.}_

**{ty same to you.}**

He turns back to Stevie. "Maybe with a nice fitted jacket and a dark jean?"

She smiles at him. "That sounds ideal."

_{And I'll see you at the dance, right?}_

**{yes i will be the one looking like he's having so much fun.}**

He assembles the correct pieces on Alexis's now empty bed. Seeing them all together, he does feel like it's a good look. Not exactly black tie casual, but not schlubby either.

_{Of course. Goodnight, David. :)}_

**{night, patrick.}**

Stevie's chattering in his ear about how stupidly cute they both are and how much she hates it, but he can barely register what she's saying. It doesn't feel like Patrick is just being friendly. It feels like Patrick is flirting with him. But that's dumb, right? Patrick wears straight-legged, mid-range denim. He loves baseball. He does not know the titles of Beyoncé songs. There's no way he's a red wine type of guy, right?

"Do you really think Patrick might be into me?" he asks Stevie, perplexed.

She looks at him for a long moment, and her voice is uncharacteristically sincere when she answers.

"I think you should talk to Patrick, because I can’t know what he wants. But yes, if you’re asking for my opinion, I think he’s into you."

David bites his lip, smiling as Stevie heaves the garbage bag over her shoulder and huffs her way out the door.


	4. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So, what's the verdict?" Patrick asks him.
> 
> David cocks his head. "What?"
> 
> "Your first dance," Patrick tips his chin in the direction of the school. "Is it as lame as you thought it would be?"

David wakes up Friday morning with butterflies in his stomach, and he doesn’t think it has anything to do with the color guard performance scheduled for that evening.

He realizes, belatedly, that he should’ve preplanned a day look as well. He may not have a _scheduled_ encounter with Patrick during school, but they’re bound to pass each other in the halls at some point. He can’t look like he just threw any old thing on. He shoots off a quick text to Stevie.

**{why am I so nervous about tonight? this is stupid.}**

He doesn’t have time to wait for a reply, so he throws his phone into his attaché case and finishes getting ready. Alexis is battling him hardcore for space in front of the mirror, which means they’re running late by the time he swings into the parking lot of the school.

“Oh my god, David, you almost killed us!” Alexis complains shrilly as she flings herself out of the passenger seat.

“If I wanted us dead, we’d be dead!” David reaches into the back seat to grab the dry cleaning bag containing Alexis’s LBD. Thankfully, he did not forget promising Stevie he’d bring it. He strides confidently (he does not run, thank you very much) into the main entrance, and is surprised when Patrick dislodges himself from where’s he’s leaning against the wall by the door. He’s holding a paper coffee cup in each hand, a sympathetic look on his face when he sees David’s flustered expression.

“Oh, hi,” David says, coming to an abrupt halt mid-charge.

“Hey,” Patrick says. “I got your text. Thought you might need this.” He hands David one of the cups.

“What text, I didn’t send you a text?”

Patrick quirks an eyebrow in confusion. “You said you were nervous about tonight. The homecoming performance? I thought you could use a pick me up.”

Alarm bells are sounding off in David’s brain. Fuckfuckfuckfuck. That text was supposed to go to Stevie; he’d sent it to Patrick? But Patrick thinks he was talking about halftime, not the dance. David aims for a quick recovery.

“Right, _that_ text. Yeah, I am so nervous for the homecoming performance.” He takes a sip of his coffee, which turns out to be a caramel macchiato, his favorite. “This is nice. Thank you.”

Patrick’s smiling again, apparently relieved. “Good.” He reaches out to splay a hand across David’s shoulder, his thumb rubbing small circles into his collarbone, and David tries to remember how breathing works. “You’re gonna do great tonight, David,” he says. “And I’ll be right there, cheering you on.”

David bites the inside of his cheek. He can’t break his face from smiling too hard, can he?

“That’s a very sweet thing to say,” he replies.

Patrick looks at him expectantly. After a beat, he prompts, “You’ll do great as well tonight, Patrick. And I’ll be right there cheering _you_ on.”

“Mm, yes, of course.” David says. “Goes without saying.”

The warning bell rings, signaling they need to get to class.

“Um, well, I have to get this to Stevie,” David raises the hand still holding the dry-cleaning bag.

“Right. I’ve got to go, too.” Patrick gives his shoulder a final pat and pulls away. “I’ll see you tonight, though.”

“Yep, see you tonight.”

On his way to class, David takes another long sip of his macchiato, letting the sweetness run through him. He can still feel the warmth of Patrick’s hand on his shoulder. Texting blunder aside, Patrick brought him a coffee. His exact order, in fact, which David knew Patrick must’ve gotten from Stevie or Alexis. He knew David was having a rough day and wanted to give him a pick-me-up. Who _does_ that?

Patrick is either the most attentive friend slash imaginary business partner in the world, David thinks, or Stevie was right: he’s into David. 

+++++

The rest of the day goes by in a bit of a blur, David barely registering anything in his classes. His Calc test comes and goes and he's not even bothered he probably bombed it. Even the 'I told you so' look Stevie shoots him once she learns where the macchiato came from isn't enough to spoil his mood. The smile Patrick flashes him when they pass each other after second period, however, like the two of them are sharing some little secret, is enough to keep his own grin on his face until lunch.

Even though the days are still a little too hot for his liking, he and Stevie decide to bypass their stairwell hideout in favor of eating lunch al fresco. The fact that they choose a spot with a perfect vantage point of the practice field is completely apropos of nothing. Though the field is too far off to see anyone's faces clearly, David can just make out the music they're practicing to (late-aughts Britney if he's not mistaken), and see the outline of Patrick's frame as he lifts Alexis into the air.

"Can you keep your ogling down, please? I can barely hear myself think," Stevie snarks next to him after a while.

"I'm not ogling," David insists. "I'm just... observing the practice."

"You're leering. That-" she points to his face, still angled toward the field, "-is a leer."

"Mmm someone’s just jealous,” David teases back. “Bet your secret boyfriend never brings you coffee."

"So Patrick's your boyfriend now?"

“No! That's not-" David is fully flustered. Dammit, Stevie. He clears his throat. "That's not what I'm saying."

Stevie pokes his cheek. "You're so cute when you're blushing."

"I don't blush," he knocks her hand away. "My olive complexion doesn’t allow for it. We're talking about you, anyway. Is your woodshop guy coming to the dance tonight?"

Stevie turns away and starts picking at a blade of grass under her feet. "I don't know; we don't really talk much when we're....together."

"Oh?" David says, blinking innocently. "What do you do when you're together? Sit quietly. Think about Jesus?"

"Something like that," Stevie slaps him on the shoulder.

"Aw, David, that's so sweet." Alexis is inexplicably in front of them. He looks up and sees that cheer practice has ended, and most of the squad is walking their way. "You came to watch me practice. What a supportive big brother you are!"

"Yep, we are definitely out here for you," Stevie deadpans. 

"Oh my god, Patrick. Isn't David so sweet and supportive to come watch us?" Alexis asks, grabbing Patrick's arm as he approaches.

"The sweetest," Patrick agrees, a teasing grin on his face.

"Okay, thank you both so much." David motions to Stevie to move along. "We have to be going now, so." He refuses to look at Patrick as he makes his very elegant and casual escape, afraid that Stevie might be right about his ability to blush after all.

"Well, David, I need to talk to you actually," Alexis runs to catch up with them. "I need the car tonight, so you're going to have to get a ride with Stevie."

"What? Why?" David blanches.

"Well, I'm going to be giving someone a ride home after the dance." Alexis opens the door for them to reenter the school.

"Why can't I be in the car, as well though?"

"Because, David, we'll need some privacy." Alexis rolls her eyes, dragging out the 'because' to at least three syllables.

"Is this person a platonic friend, or...?" Stevie asks.

"No, if you must know, Stevie,” Alexis glares at her, “we're dating, kind of."

"Dating? Who are you dating?" David asks incredulously. A few of the other kids in the hall turn to look at the sound of his raised voice. 

"Well, it's kind of new, David."

"Alexis, we will all be at the dance tonight,” he flails. “So, unless you're planning to not interact with this person, I'm going to find out who it is. Are you back together with Mutt?"

"Ugh, it's Ted, David!"

Half the hallway turns to look at them at Alexis’s outburst, and David blinks. Ted Mullins is the human equivalent of a Labrador retriever puppy. Not the type of guy Alexis would normally go for.

"Since when have you been dating Ted?"

"I don't know, it just kind of happened." She twirls her hair around her fingers. "He's been helping me get my grades up, and we just... connected."

"Ew."

"No, like we really connected. Like, with our words. He's really sweet."

"Wait, is this the study group you've been going to?" Stevie asks.

"Yeah, no, there's no study group. I didn't want anyone to know Ted was tutoring me."

"Why?" David asks.

"Because, you all already think I'm stupid."

David blinks again. He exchanges glances with Stevie, who looks called out.

"I do NOT think you're stupid, Alexis," he says.

Alexis huffs and flips her hair, like she doesn’t care either way, but David can see the tiniest bit of hurt in her eyes. 

"Annoying, maybe," he says flatly.

"Obnoxious?" Stevie offers.

"And shrill, very very shrill," he lets one corner of his mouth quirk up so Alexis can see it for the joke he means it to be. She answers with a small, tentative smile of her own.

"But never stupid," he tells her sincerely.

"Okay, well," Alexis bounces a little, clearly uneasy. "Now that you know about me and Ted, you'll let me take the car, right?"

David puts a finger to his lips, acts like he's thinking. Alexis looks like she's about to buzz out of her skin.

"Okay, fine,” he says finally, waving his hands in surrender. “But I swear to god, if there are any unclothed....parts on any bit of that upholstery, you are disinfecting all of it."

Alexis nods, still bouncing, and wraps her arms around David's neck.

"Yay, thank you!" She pulls away. "Patrick is right, you are the sweetest. Boop!" She pokes his nose with the tip of her index finger. "Okay, I'll see you tonight. Good luck with your color guard thing. You too, Stevie."

"Thanks," Stevie says. "Good luck with your cheer thing."

David watches his sister bound away, her beach waves streaming behind her.

"I'm not kidding, Alexis!” he calls after her. “That car better be spotless tomorrow. Spotless!"

+++++

For all the practice and planning that’s gone into it, their performance at the homecoming game turns out to be a non-event. David has so much excited energy flowing through him about Patrick and the dance that he can’t physically accommodate any anxiety about missing a toss or forgetting a step. Maybe because of the total lack of anxiety, he ends up executing a flawless routine.

Ray grins at them as they run off the field. He gives David two thumbs up, and even Stevie is smiling brightly when she turns to him.

“That was good!” she says.

Still celebrating their performance, the guard move collectively to the side of the track to make room for the cheer squad, who are up next. Alexis blows him a little kiss as she runs past, Patrick right behind her.

“Great job!” he tells David without breaking his stride.

And now David has to stand there and watch as they perform in front of the packed bleachers. _Now_ he’s weirdly nervous, he realizes. What if something goes wrong? What if Patrick drops Alexis, or she kicks him in the face, or something? David can only imagine how upset Patrick would be if he thought for one second that he ruined the team’s performance, or if Alexis got hurt.

He wraps one arm tightly around his ribs and taps the thumbnail of his other hand against his teeth, rocking back and forth nervously from side to side. Please, he thinks. Pleasepleaseplease.

One of the other stunt groups fail to hit their extension, but they bring the flyer back down into a prep, and it’s hardly noticeable. Klare, one of the other flyers, drops her scorpion a few beats before Alexis does, but manages to stay upright. Alexis’s stunt group, however, are perfect. They finish the routine without a single mistake, and both she and Patrick are beaming when they come off the field.

“That was amazing!” David tells Alexis, as she bounds into his arms for a hug. “You looked so good.”

“Thanks!” she says brightly and pinches his cheek. “So did you.” She grabs Twyla’s arm and the two walk off together, their ponytails bouncing as they talk animatedly.

Suddenly, Patrick is in front of him, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes bright.

“We did it!” he says.

“We did!” David agrees, and to his surprise, finds himself pulled tight against Patrick’s chest in a congratulatory hug.

“I told you you’d do great,” Patrick says in his ear.

“What about you? That routine was flawless. You guys hit every time.”

Patrick pulls away, though David notices he stays close, one hand still on David’s arm.

“Alexis makes it easy; she’s a great flyer.”

“Mkay, I think maybe you’re not too bad yourself though.”

Patrick moves his hand away, though he keeps smiling sunnily at David. He seems to attempt to put his hands in his pockets, realize he’s wearing his uniform, which doesn’t have pockets, and folds his arms across his chest instead. “So are you staying to watch the rest of the game?”

“God, no,” David tells him. “Stevie and I are going back to her place to get ready for the dance.” He gestures to his green and purple, be-sequined costume. “I need to get out of this immediately.”

“Why?” Patrick teases. “I think you look very cute.”

“You’re not funny.”

Patrick looks pleased with himself but doesn’t argue.

“What about you?” David asks. “Are you watching the game?”

“I mean, I still have to cheer through the second half, so.”

“Right.”

“But I’ll see you soon.” He grabs David’s arm again, giving it a little squeeze. “Save me a dance?”

David bites his cheek. All he can do is nod as Patrick turns and jogs down the track to rejoin his squad.

+++++

After a lengthy getting-ready-for-the-big-dance montage at Stevie’s, replete a small amount of vodka for himself and a larrrge amount of vodka for her, David rolls up to Schitt’s Creek High looking like a million bucks and feeling just the teensiest bit buzzed. 

Stevie looks amazing in Alexis's dress, even if she is also wearing a pair of combat boots. It’s working for her in a Julia Styles, 10 Things I Hate About You sort of way. He himself went with the charcoal sweater Stevie picked out, along with his favorite dark wash jeans and a fitted black velvet-lined jacket. He knows he looks good, but even with the confidence boost from the outfit, and the vodka, his nerves are working overtime.

It's no big deal, he tells himself, popping a mint as he and Stevie make their way across the parking lot. It's just a stupid dance. If the movies are to be believed, they happen literally all the time in your average high school setting. And he and Patrick are just going to hang out, as friends do. Maybe dance together, in a friendly, business partners sort of way. Maybe something more will happen and maybe it won't, but it doesn't have to be a big deal either way, he assures himself.

The litany of self-affirmations rolling through his mind die down as he follows Stevie into the cafeteria, which has been... weirdly transformed. The lights are dim, with the additions of strings of fairy lights and a strobe or two for effect. There are black, gold, and silver foil streamers and balloons everywhere. His fellow students are, dare he say it, looking cute? The girls have all done their hair and makeup to a level heretofore unseen by him, and most of the boys seem freshly washed. Jocelyn smiles and waves when she sees him, and to his own disbelief, he smiles and waves back.

"David, hey, David!" Alexis's voice carries across the throng. She (and Ted, he notices) are already set up at a table near the back. Twyla is close by, talking animatedly at George. She waves at David and Stevie.

"You two look so cute," Alexis singsongs. "Don't they look cute, Ted?"

"Super cute," Ted agrees. "Do you guys want some punch?" he offers, pointing to the refreshment table nearby. "It's pretty good. I like it a whole _punch_."

"Ted," Alexis admonishes, laying a gentle hand on his. "Remember we said no punch puns."

"Sorry,” Ted looks regretful. “I can do better than that, anyway."

"You know what? I would like some punch," Stevie says. "So I'm just gonna..." she wonders off, very much not heading for the refreshment table.

David takes a seat next to Alexis, trying to look like he's not desperately searching for a certain face in the crowd.

"So how was the rest of the game?" he asks Alexis, having to raise his voice over the music. "Did we score the most baskets, or...?"

"Mmhm, yes," she tells him. "We totally won." Ted's nodding along and smiling beside her, and David's wondering what in God's name he's even supposed to talk about with these two. Thankfully, a slow song comes on, and Ted stands, tapping Alexis on the shoulder.

"My lady," he says, bowing a little. "May I have this dance?"

"Aw, babe," she says, and takes his hand. David watches the two of them make their way onto the dance floor. He's happy Alexis has found someone, especially someone who pushes her to do better in class and be a better version of herself. He tilts his head to the side. He may not be her usual type, but maybe Ted will be good for her.

It doesn't take long for David to realize that he's sitting alone at a table talking to no one. Strong start to your first ever school dance, he tells himself. He doesn't even have any food he can shame eat. He straightens, craning to see what snack options are available, when he spots a familiar shape moving towards his table.

Patrick waves, politely waits for a couple to slow dance past, then makes his way to David, pulling out a chair for himself. "Hey," he says.

"Hey."

"You look nice."

"Thanks, you look nice as well."

They sit silently for a moment. David finds himself once again trying desperately to think of something to say.

"How was the rest of the game?" he asks, just as Patrick says, "How was Stevie's?" and they both laugh.

"The game was good," Patrick tells him. "We won."

"That's good."

"Yeah."

"Stevie's was also good. Except I think she might've gotten a little drunk and now I have no idea where she is."

"Oh," Patrick's brow furrows. "I can help you look for her?"

David waves a hand. "I'm sure she's fine. I think she's meeting her secret boyfriend here, and she doesn't want me to know who it is."

"Oh," now Patrick looks intrigued. "A secret boyfriend? Why do you think she wants to keep him a secret?"

"I'm not entirely sure, but I'm guessing it's because he's hideous. Like, majorly deformed or bald or, like, covered in goiters?"

"Probably," Patrick nods.

"You might know him!" David exclaims, leaning toward Patrick conspiratorially. "I'm pretty sure he's in your shop class."

"Really? I haven't noticed Stevie with anyone."

"C'mon, there must be someone you've seen her flirting with? Or just, like, creepily staring at and lusting over?"

"Not really.” Patrick still looks clueless. “I mean, we mostly talk about – um, well, you." Patrick's looking at the cheap plastic tablecloth like it’s the most interesting thing in the world all of the sudden. "We mostly talk about you in shop class."

"Oh."

"Yeah." When Patrick finally looks up at him again, David flashes him a smile, and Patrick lets out a breath, looking relieved.

They sit in silence a few moments longer. David isn't sure what he's supposed to say to the revelation that Patrick and Stevie talk about him. Stevie had basically told him as much, and it’s not like they had much else in common. But to hear Patrick admit it, and to see Patrick be nervous about it, like the fact that he and Stevie talk about David means something. That feels big.

"David, do you want to dance?" Patrick says it all in a rush, and for a second David isn't sure he heard properly. He nods anyway, though, and Patrick is standing up, reaching out his hand. David takes it and the two of them make their way onto the floor.

The first face he sees as he drapes his arms over Patrick's shoulders is Twyla's. She catches his eye and smiles encouragingly. He feels Patrick's hands come up to settle on his waist as they slowly sway back and forth. David bites his lip to hide his smile.

Has he really gotten this soft? The old David Rose had danced with a hundred guys, a thousand, and not cared who saw them or what it meant or what would happen next. It never mattered before. But this, dancing with Patrick in an adequately decorated high school cafeteria in the middle of nowhere with a shitty DJ and a secondhand smoke machine: this felt like it mattered. He felt elated, buzzing with electricity, and just a little bit terrified at the thought of what, if anything, would happen next.

“I’m really glad you’re here, David,” Patrick says in his ear, and David pulls back so he can look Patrick in the eyes.

“Thank you.”

Patrick looks at him expectantly.

“Oh, and I’m also really glad that you’re here, Patrick, as well.”

“Thank you.” Patrick chuckles. “So nice of you to say.”

The next song starts up then, something kicky, and a few of the couples around them move to take their seats as a few of the single ladies lining the walls shriek variations of ‘this is my jam!’ and stream out onto the dance floor.

“Maybe we should grab a drink?” Patrick says, leaning in to be heard over the music, and David nods.

Patrick takes his hand and leads them toward the punch table, cutting assuredly through the crowd. He drops David’s hand when they reach the table and ladles an aggressively pink punch into two clear plastic cups, offering one to David. Patrick leads the way back to their table.

“Oh my god, David,” Patrick says, halting suddenly on the way there. David almost walks into his back.

“What?”

“I think I know who Stevie’s secret boyfriend is.”

David follows Patrick’s eye line. At first, all he can see is a very broad pair of shoulders leaning against the wall, but then the shoulders shift, and he can see Stevie’s dark hair and black dress pinned between the shoulders and the wall. David almost can’t process what he’s seeing, but it definitely _looks_ like Stevie Budd making out with some hulking muscle guy in the middle of the cafeteria for everyone to see.

“Oh my god,” he exclaims. Patrick starts walking again, and David follows close behind him, leaning in to speak as quietly as he can and still be heard over the music. “Who is that?”

They reach their table and Patrick pulls out a chair for David, then himself.

“Tough to tell with Stevie attached to his face like that, but I think it’s Jake.”

“Jake? _Who the eff is Jake_?!”

“Uhh, don’t know a last name. He’s in YEC? He’s also in our shop class.”

“I don’t know him from YEC,” David exclaims. He feels weirdly… possessive of Stevie. Not in a jealous way. But who was this strange man to think he could just… make out with David’s best friend? He hadn’t even had a chance to properly vet this person.

“He’s partnering with Ted on the business project,” Patrick supplies.

“Ohh.” David vaguely remembers now. Tall, sandy brown hair. Weirdly familiar with everyone. In a past life David probably would’ve thought Jake could get it. But lately he’d been so sprung on Patrick he’d hardly noticed anyone else.

“They seem… close,” Patrick observes.

“Mmm in a physical as well as a spiritual sense, yes,” David agrees, trying to ignore the hot and heavy make out session happening in front of him, yet seemingly unable to look away, like watching a train wreck happen in slow motion. He suddenly feels very warm. Looking back, the velvet-lined jacket had probably been a mistake. He takes a sip from his cup.

“This punch tastes like laundry detergent,” he observes.

“Do you want to step outside for a while?” Patrick asks, turning to face him. “It’s probably cooler out there by now; we could get some fresh air?”

The air outside _is_ a little cooler David notices, as he follows Patrick out the main doors. There's a soft breeze, and even though the lights lining the parking lot are too bright to make out the stars, the sky is clear. Patrick leans against the rail of access ramp that runs to the left of the entrance, shoving his hands in his pockets, and David stands next to him, their arms not quite touching.

Patrick looks good. He's wearing a green button up shirt that David's seen him in before. The color of it makes his normally chestnut hair look auburn, even in the low light. He's also wearing the straightest of straight-legged khakis, though thankfully they’re at least relaxed fit. David doesn't know what he would have done if this boy had shown up in pleated khakis.

Aren’t they a pair? He bets Patrick has never worn a velvet-lined article of clothing in his life.

"So, what's the verdict?" Patrick asks him.

David cocks his head. "What?"

"Your first dance," Patrick tips his chin in the direction of the school. "Is it as lame as you thought it would be?"

"Honestly? It's not that bad." Patrick smiles softly at him and David continues. "I mean, is it on the same level as the Rosacea Benefit at the St. Regis? No. But it's, I don't know, it's kind of nice."

David hesitates, watching Patrick nod along beside him, before going on. "Also, there may be this...um, cute guy who asked me to dance? So. That made it a lot more fun than I thought it was going to be."

Patrick blushes, and it's the cutest thing David has ever seen. He marvels at the fact that he can make Patrick do that. 

"Is that so?" Patrick says.

"Yes, he's very sweet, and um, nice. And I – I like him, a lot." David is leaning toward Patrick a little more, albeit very slowly, with each word. He's pleasantly surprised to see Patrick is also leaning toward him.

"He kind of likes you, too." Patrick glances at his mouth. David leans in for the kill, but he senses Patrick pull back.

"You were - we're talking about me, right?" Patrick looks uncertain. He gestures to himself. "I'm the cute guy?"

"Yeah, yes, you are the cute guy."

"Oh, okay. Just double-checking there wasn’t some other guy who asked you to dance." Patrick starts to lean in again, smiling.

"Heyyyyy, you two," Stevie appears out of nowhere, smiling sloppily and draped in a letter jacket practically twice her size.

"Stevie, hi." Patrick moves away from David like he's been stung.

“Yes?" David asks through gritted teeth. "How can we help you?"

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" she asks, blinking as she looks between them. Patrick won't even look at her, bless him.

"No. We were discussing... market shares." David supplies the literal first thing that comes into his brain. It's then he notices Jake standing behind her. "Oh, hello," he says coldly.

"Hey," Jake says, somehow managing to make the word sound like dirty. He is the personification of the Joey Tribbiani, _'how you doin?'_ come on.

David looks Stevie dead in the eyes. "Is there something you'd like to discuss with me?" he asks. “A secret you’d like to divulge, perchance?”

"Yeah, so... something has come up." Stevie turns to look back at Jake. "And, it turns out, I won't be able to give you a ride home after all."

"You what?"

"Yeah, sorry man, that's my bad," Jake raises his hand, like reminding David that he's standing there is a good idea right now. "I asked Pony if she could take me home."

"Oh, did you," David says. He tilts his head, still looking at Stevie. "You asked Pony that?"

At least Stevie has the decency to look a little guilty. "I'm sorry, David. Can't you just get a ride with Alexis?"

"No, I can't!" The volume of David's voice is still well within normal limits, though the pitch may be just a skosh high. "I can't, because Alexis needs the car for... reasons."

Even though he's not super happy that Alexis stole the car for her own nefarious purposes, he still doesn't want to air his sister's extracurricular activities with Ted for all the world to hear. 

"I can take you," he hears Patrick say softly beside him. David turns to look at him. 

"You don't have to do that."

"No, I don’t mind," Patrick tells him, shrugging good naturedly. "I want to."

"See?" Stevie says, smiling like this whole thing was her idea. "Patrick wants to take you home."

"Okay, fine." David acquiesces. "But let it be known that Patrick being a decent human being in no way excuses you abandoning your best friend to engage in..." he glances at Jake, then back at Stevie. "Harlotry. This will be remembered."

He turns back to Patrick as Stevie and Jake wander toward the parking lot. "Thank you."

Patrick smiles at him, his eyes soft. "Just being a decent human being."

David leans into him, humming. _Where were we...?_

"Would you dance with me again?" Patrick asks him, and David pulls back.

"What, here?"

Patrick chuckles. "No, we would go back inside. Then the dancing would commence."

"Oh, okay,” David agrees. He lets Patrick take his hand and lead them back toward the main doors. "But no fast songs. I did not come here to gyrate with the masses." Patrick is nodding along, a placating expression on his face. "There will be no flossing, no whips nor nae naes."

"Just one Gangnam Style, though?" Patrick asks, opening the cafeteria door for him.

"Definitely not."

+++++

The energy inside the cafeteria has changed since they left, David notices. The lights seem even dimmer. The dance floor is sparsely populated with couples swaying from side to side at an incremental pace. Quite a few tables are empty now, though some have a few people scattered here and there, huddled in clusters and speaking lowly. Everyone seems more relaxed, David realizes, before wondering if it may just be that his own nervous energy has dissipated.

He'd told Patrick he liked him. That he thought he was cute, and nice, and sweet. All true, though David had never expected to just blurt it out like that at the first opportunity. And Patrick, for his part, had nearly kissed him in response. Damn Stevie and her sexual needs. He hoped that she and her mouthbreathing boy toy were freaking happy they'd ruined what was sure to be a momentous first kiss.

When they reach the dance floor, David wraps his arms around Patrick's broad shoulders. He feels Patrick's hands rest briefly on his waist, before circling around to wrap around his back. Patrick's head fits perfectly along the curve of his shoulder, the two of them fitting into each other like they’ve done this a thousand times before, and he breathes out a long sigh of contentment as they fall into a comfortable sway in time to the music.

Just as David's eyes are about to drift shut, he registers an all-too-familiar flailing to his left. Alexis has spotted them, and her face is doing some pretty interesting contortions, shuffling between what he's sure is meant to be an exaggerated wink (though it looks more like her contact lens has become dislodged) and kissy faces, her arms flapping at her sides. Beside her, Ted grins at him and gives him an encouraging thumbs up.

He shakes his head at both of them, shooing at them to leave him alone as subtly as he can.

Patrick lifts his head from David's shoulder, and David smiles at him. He can see in his peripheral vision Alexis finally getting the hint. She grabs Ted's sleeve and leads him toward the exit, waving to David again as she goes. 

David knows, rationally, that this moment can’t last forever. The weight and warmth of Patrick’s arms around him, the two of them swaying in time with an old Mariah Carey song, it’s all just a little too perfect to last. He decides to use an old trick his therapist had taught him. He soaks in every bit of sensation he can: the smell of fabric softener on Patrick’s clothes. The imprint of each of his fingerprints on David’s back, the sound of his own heartbeat, steady and slightly too loud in his ears. He wants to remember this moment, to be able to pull it up at any point in the future and savor it as though he were right back in it.

Eventually, of course, the song ends, and a more up-tempo song begins. He and Patrick continue to sway for the first few bars, neither one of them ready to break the spell. It’s Patrick who pulls away first.

“Why don’t I grab us another drink, and I’ll meet you at our table?”

“Sure,” David nods, and moves to sit down.

“You two looked good out there,” Twyla tells him as he rejoins her at the same table from earlier. 

“Thanks.”

“Patrick is such a sweet guy,” she adds. “He’s my favorite guy on the squad.”

“Really?”

“Yep, and he-” she stops abruptly, seeming to consider her words before continuing. “He speaks very highly of you.”

Now its David’s turn to blush. He changes the subject, complimenting Twyla on her halftime performance and asking how her project is going for YEC. He doesn’t know how long they’ve been talking when he realizes that Patrick still hasn’t returned with their punch. He glances over toward the snack station and sees Patrick chatting with Rachel, another girl on the squad. He excuses himself and heads over to help Patrick with the drinks.

Patrick and Rachel are deep in what appears to be an intense conversation and neither of them notice his approach.

“I don’t see why that’s any of your business,” Patrick tells her, his shoulders a tight line.

“He’s just a lot, Patrick,” Rachel tells him. “I mean, the clothes and all the-” she pulls a face “-the drama? I didn’t think someone like that was your type, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Well, you don’t really know anything about me, though, do you?” Patrick counters, his words clipped.

David knows he shouldn’t be hearing any of this: they’re obviously talking about him. But he wants to hear what Patrick will say next.

“I like David, a lot,” Patrick goes on, his tone brooking no argument. “I like his clothes, and the drama, and everything else about him. And I really don’t care what you think about either of us, so.”

It’s then Rachel spots David hovering behind them, her eyes widening. Patrick notices her expression and turns, also spotting David.

“…heyy,” David says awkwardly.

“Hi,” Patrick responds, his expression unreadable.

“Um, I got thirsty,” David says by way of an explanation, and Patrick, strangely, smiles.

“Right, here is your punch.” He hands David one of the cups he’s holding and, once his hand is free, slides it to the small of David’s back. “Have a good night, Rachel,” he calls dismissively over his shoulder as he guides David back toward their table. 

“I’m sorry for eavesdropping,” David says as they sit down. Twyla is chatting to George again, so David feels comfortable speaking freely.

“How much did you hear?”

“I’m guessing most of it? Rachel is decidedly not a fan,” David takes a sip of his punch and grimaces at the sickly sweet taste. 

“You know I don’t care what she thinks, right?” Patrick looks serious, borderline concerned, and David is impossibly fond.

“No, you made that clear.” David taps a finger on the back of Patrick’s hand, his voice going soft. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

“Am I being clear when I say that I like you, David?”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” David purses his lips to keep from grinning. “You may have to make your point a few more times before I get your meaning.”

“Hey, guys?” Twyla lays a hand on David’s arm. “I’m taking off. I just wanted to say bye.”

“’Night.” David gives her a little wave. 

“Goodnight, Twyla,” Patrick says. He looks out over the noticeably thinner crowd. “It does seem to be winding down in here. Maybe we should go, too?”

“Yeah.”

Patrick takes his hand once they’re in the parking lot. “Well, David, your first high school dance is in the books.”

“Mmm.”

“Thoughts? Impressions?”

“Well, the refreshments left something to be desired,” he starts. “The ambiance was… better than I expected. Stevie owes me like, seven apology gifts for abandoning me like that.” He drops Patrick’s hand in favor of wrapping both of his own hands around Patrick’s arm and pulling him close. “But the company? 10 out of 10. Would dance with again.”

“Aw, you're sweet,” Patrick says, ducking his head in affected shyness. They reach his car, a silver Corolla, and Patrick opens the door for him.

“What a gentleman,” David remarks, folding himself into the passenger seat as gracefully as he can.

Patrick’s music choice on the drive to the motel can best be described as ‘coffeehouse music, but like, even chiller.’ He drives carefully, observing the speed limit, using his blinker. David expected nothing less.

They chat easily about the day: their respective halftime performances, whose outfits at the dance were correct and whose were incorrect, the absurdity of Stevie and Jake’s entire _thing_ , and way sooner than he’d like, Patrick is pulling into an empty space in front of David’s room.

“Well,” David declares, unbuckling his seat belt. “That was a fun night.”

“I had a great time, David.” Patrick’s soft voice sounds impossibly close in the small, quiet space.

“Me, too.”

“Can I text you tomorrow?” Patrick asks.

“Of course.” David tries and fails to hide the pleased grin on his face. “You can text me whenever you’d like.”

For a moment he thinks that’ll be it. That Patrick will tell him goodnight and he’ll say it back and they’ll part ways. But then Patrick glances at his mouth and leans in just a fraction and that’s it. Before his mind even registers what his body is doing, he’s closing the distance between Patrick and himself. He slides his palm along Patrick’s cheek and uses it to gently pull Patrick toward him, kissing him soundly.

It’s only a second before Patrick responds, pressing in, and David has shared many a first kiss with random trust fund kids and B-list teen heartthrobs in his life, but this one? This is a near perfect first kiss. After a moment, he pulls back slowly and opens his eyes to find Patrick’s still closed. He rubs his thumb along Patrick’s jaw.

Patrick looks at him and smiles shyly. “Thank you,” he says.

“For what?”

“I – I’ve been trying to come up with the courage to do that all night, and I was starting to get scared that you were going to get out of this car without my having kissed you, so, thank you for making that happen for us.”

David thanks all the stars in the sky that Alexis is still out with Ted and his parents are likely asleep, because if anyone else saw his giant grin he’d never be able to show his face at this motel again.

“Well,” he assures Patrick. “I am a very generous person, so.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow, right?” Patrick asks.

“Definitely.” David smiles at him again, then lets himself out of the car.

“Goodnight, David,” Patrick calls after him. 

“Night, Patrick.”

David is thankful once again that Alexis is out as he lets himself into the dark stillness of their shared room. He toes off his shoes and glides into the bathroom to brush his teeth and complete his nighttime skincare routine. Just as he’s applying his undereye serum, his phone dings.

_{I know it’s not tomorrow yet, but I just wanted to say that I had an amazing time with you tonight.}_

**_{I assure you the feeling is very mutual.}_ **


	5. The Weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which David spirals.

David wakes to his phone dinging loudly and rudely on the bedside table. 

{how was Patrick last night?} 

This is followed by like five kissy faces, six eggplants, and three collision emojis. David rolls his eyes. _Stevie._

{does he taste like cinnamon and nutmeg?}

David groans, twisting in the bed to get into an optimal texting position.

**_{hi youre very rude and disgusting please lose my number.}_ **

{is he more of a boxers or briefs guy}

**_{swallow bleach please}_ **

{ok ok I’m done.}

{just tell me you used protection tho because I can not deal with a pregnant david rose right now}

**_{ok you know what? 2 can play this game, pony}_ **

**_{how was jake last night?}_ **

**_{did he put the ball in your… goal thingy}_ **

{that would’ve been a way better insult if you knew the term endzone}

**_{omfg is that what its called?? ew}_ **

_{Good morning :) }_

David’s stomach does a little flip when he’s sees Patrick’s text and that stupid smiley face.

**_{Hi, good morning to you}_ **

_{How was the rest of your night?}_

{i mean i could send you some pics of jake’s endzone if ur curious}

Ugh, David is going to get whiplash bouncing between these two conversations. Whether to continue to allow his insufferable best friend to roast him, or flirt with the sweetest person he’s ever had the pleasure of kissing, is a non-question.

**_{a boy is texting me rn, so kindly fuck off)_ **

{ooh patrick’s texting you? how did it go last night rly?}

**_{i’ll tell you later now leave me alone.}_ **

{ok best wishes to you both.}

**_{kindest regards to you.}_ **

He settles further under the covers to continue his conversation with Patrick.

**_{I had a very pleasant evening, thank you. how was yours?]_ **

_{Good. Couldn’t sleep though; I was thinking about stuff.}_

_{You know, that kiss.}_

David bites the inside of his cheek.

**_{regrets?}_ **

_{What?! No, why would I have regrets?}_

**_{Idk I think its just a habit to ask at this point}_ **

_{No, David, no regrets. I’m happy you kissed me.}_

**_{oh ok. Good}_ **

_{What about you? You’re not regretting anything?}_

**_{ummm kissing a cute boy in what was quite possibly the best first kiss of my life? Yeah, hugely regretting that one.}_ **

_{Wow, best first kiss of your life?? Thanks for that._ _;)_ _}_

**_{…I said possibly.}_ **

_{Ok so we can both agree that the kiss was not a mistake and we’re glad we did it.}_

**_{i concur with that assessment}_ **

_{I for one would like to do it again.}_

**_{same.}_ **

Patrick doesn’t text him back right away, so David tosses his phone onto Alexis’s empty bed and floats toward the shower with Patrick’s words reverberating in his mind. _I for one would like to do it again._ He thinks about it as he’s styling his hair and putting on his outfit for the day. _Do it again._

He’s formulating an invitation when he emerges from the bathroom. Maybe Patrick would want to come over and work on the business project? Or they could meet at the café for another working lunch? David’s crafting the perfect casual-yet-flirty message in his head while he searches for his phone. And searches for his phone. He can’t find it anywhere. It’s only when he spots Alexis’s running shoes stashed in the corner and her cell phone still on her charger that he puts it together.

Alexis must have come back from her run while he was in the shower and grabbed his phone by mistake in her rush to get to her court ordered community service. He briefly considers texting Patrick from _her_ phone before he remembers that she recently changed her passcode specifically to keep David from changing the names of all of her contacts to names of cheeses. Again.

“Dammit, Alexis!” David says to the empty room.

She finally comes straggling back in late that night with an elaborate story about her trash detail running long, having to call Ted for a ride, and his car breaking down? David is so anxious to get his hands on his phone that he doesn’t even bother to call her out on such a flimsy lie.

“Gimme it,” he tells her instead, reaching out with both hands to grab the air.

“What, David?”

“My phone; give me my phone.”

“Ugh, fine. Here,” she shoves it into his hand. “But, okay, David, I did use it to call Ted and text some people and look through your messages and emails.” At David’s murder glare she continues, “Community service is boring! Okay, and I knew – I knew you would want me to text Patrick back and let him know that I had your phone, David. So, you’re welcome.” She smooths her hands through her hair. “He was, like, so cute and disappointed, by the way. Love that for you.”

David tries to unlock his phone three times before it takes because he’s so flustered. He needs to know what level of damage Alexis has just inflicted on his social life. He scrolls up to where his conversation with Patrick had ended that morning.

**_{same.}_ **

_{Did you have time to maybe get together today? You could come over & we could work on the project for YEC?}_

_{Or, I mean, we don’t have to work on school stuff. We could just watch a movie or whatever. Order a pizza?}_

**_{omigod Patrick you are just the cutest thing, but this is actually Alexis I have David’s phone}_ **

_{Oh, hi Alexis. May I ask why you have David’s phone?}_

**_{well he put it on my bed so it’s not really my fault for thinking it was mine}_ **

_{Obviously. & will you be giving it back to him at some point?}_

**_{yes for sure but I probably won’t be back at the motel til late}_ **

_{Oh, ok. Does he have your phone?}_

**_{umm yes but do not text him on my phone because he’s locked out of it for being a bratty little twerp}_ **

_{Ok.}_

**_{ohhh my god Patrick you kissed Daivd?!?}_ **

_{He told you that??}_

**_{um no I’m reading all his texts}_ **

**_{he said it was the best first kiss of his life omg that’s so cringey}_ **

_{I mean I thought it was nice.}_

**_{eee you guys are cute Patrick! so does this mean you’re like dating my brother now?}_ **

_{Oh I don’t know. We probably shouldn’t talk about this on David’s phone, anyway.}_

**_{mhmm yes good point. Ok well yay for you two!}_ **

By the time he reaches the end, David’s jaw hurts from gritting his teeth so hard. _Alexis._ Why is she like this?

**_{Hi it’s David}_ **

_{Hi! I was wondering if Alexis was maybe just keeping your phone forever.}_

**_{yeah she is basically the worst person ever so. um also I saw your invitation to hang out today. i’m guessing its too late for that to happen now?}_ **

_{Yeah, my curfew’s in like half an hour, so I don’t think my parents would want anyone coming over right now.}_

**_{Got it. I’m sorry I didn’t have my phone.}_ **

_{It’s fine, David. We’ll just do it another time.}_

They exchange pleasantries for a while after that, and hash out a few more details for the YEC project. Patrick sends David another smiley face with his goodnight message, and the last residuals of David’s disappointment fizzle out. He lays down to sleep, assuring himself that they’ll try again tomorrow.

++++

“What kind of fuckery is this?” he asks the blank screen. Patrick did not seem like the type to play games. Yet here he was, very much not responding to David’s texts.

“What’s the matter, David?” Alexis breezes into their room clutching a smoothie from the café. She’s just come from a run, looking chic in her matching leggings and tank top, her hair in a high, artfully mussed ponytail.

“Patrick isn’t answering any of my texts.”

“Ooh, burn, David.”

“Go lie down on a train track, please,” he tells her, but his heart isn’t in it.

“Well, maybe he’s, like, busy,” she suggests and takes a sip of her smoothie.

“We were supposed to make plans for today, though.”

“Hmm.” She looks unsure. “Like. He told you he wanted to make plans?”

Now it’s David who’s unsure. They were supposed to make plans for today, right? Patrick had said ‘some other time,’ but today was another time, wasn’t it?

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Well,” Alexis voice is gently sympathetic. “You did basically stick your tongue down his throat after the dance.”

“Okay, we kissed one time, and yesterday, you said you thought we were cute! You told Patrick, ‘yay for you two!’”

“Well, maybe you made him uncomfortable though.”

“He said he had, and I quote, ‘an amazing time.”

“Well, yeah, that was right after, when he was all coasting on adrenaline and post-kiss endorphins, David. But maybe after everything settled, he realized it was like,” she pumps her hand in front of her like she’s pressing on an invisible brake pedal, “too fast.”

David is silent. As much as he hates to admit that his sister is right or even possesses the capacity to ever be right, she does have a point. David had been the one to initiate the kiss. If he had to guess, he didn’t think Patrick had kissed many other guys. Or any other guys. Or maybe any other people, even.

 _He’s a lot,_ David hears Rachel’s voice echoing in his head. _I didn’t think someone like that was your type._

“Oh,” is all he says, and Alexis pats his knee reassuringly.

“Poor thing.”

+++++

David spends the rest of Sunday basically a ball of anxiety and regret. He knew he was going to end up pushing it too far with Patrick. He should’ve kept it casual: just two friendly platonic fake business partners. Breezy. But he took a risk and, even though it had seemed like it paid off at the time, he’s realizing now he read it all wrong.

David accepts that Patrick may like him. He’d said as much more than once. But that didn’t mean he was ready for anything other than friendship with David. It didn’t mean that he even _wanted_ anything other than friendship with David. And now he’d screwed up his chance at even being Patrick’s friend and Patrick wasn’t talking to him.

David scrolls back through their text exchanges, trying to find a clue as to why Patrick was ghosting him. When Alexis had asked if he and David were dating, Patrick had said ‘Oh I don’t know.’ So maybe Alexis was right? Maybe Patrick had decided he wasn’t ready for all of _that_.

And then David had gone and sent him like eight texts in a three hour window asking if he wanted to hang out. No wonder he wasn’t responding. 

Why did David always have to ruin anything good in his life?

Stevie texts him a few times. She even calls him once, the psycho, but he ignores her. He doesn’t think he could bear to hear the sympathy in her voice when she found out Patrick hated him.

After moping around all day, David finally decides to accept his fate as some random story Patrick will tell his future partner about. He applies a clay facemask – he feels like he needs a good detox after the wallow fest he’s just engaged in – and settles in for a Buffy the Vampire Slayer marathon just as his phone dings. He watches the text scroll across the top without opening his messages.

_{David, I’m so sorry I missed your texts!}_

_{I went to church with my parents this morning & then we went to lunch.}_

_{ & I was telling them about the thing for YEC & then they wanted to go shopping so my mom could buy me a new shirt & my dad could help me pick out poster board.}_

_{ & then we went for ice cream.}_

_{ & of course I left my phone at home so I just saw your invitation.}_

_{I would’ve loved to hang out with you.}_

David stares at his phone, watching the messages appear one after the other. Did Patrick not hate him, then? Had he, rather than ignoring David, simply become trapped in an elaborately wholesome bonding session with his parents? David doesn’t know how to respond.

_{We’re still on for lunch tomorrow right?}_

He sets his phone down and turns his attention back to the latest apocalypse at Sunnydale High. He honestly has no idea what to say to Patrick now. Because, although he now knows Patrick has not been ignoring him, it doesn’t change anything either. If he doesn’t back off, he really is going to run Patrick right off just when they were becoming friends. David feels paralyzed. His phone dings again.

_{What did you do today?}_

Had an existential crisis? And now I’m doing a mask so I can pretend I have my life together?

_{Sorry for the insane amount of texts. Can you just message me back whenever you see these?}_

David puts his phone on silent and settles back against the headboard. A full skincare cycle, several episodes and a massive amount of pining between Buffy and Angel later, he flips the TV and lights off and settles onto his pillow, grabbing his phone for a little pre-sleep scrolling.

_{Ok you still haven’t seen these so I’m guessing that means you’re having a good night with your family.}_

_{Hey I’m gonna grab you a coffee & meet you by the front doors in the morning, okay?}_

_{Goodnight, David. :)}_


	6. Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which David spirals some more, and brings everyone else down with him.

David wakes Monday morning before his alarm has even gone off. His stomach feels twisty and tense as he dresses for school. He’s ready to go way before Alexis and spends the extra time downing an entire cinnamon roll, thank you very much.

“Woof, David,” Alexis says. She’s just come out of the bathroom and is putting in a pair of oversized gold hoop earrings. “You look disheveled.”

“Bite me,” he responds, licking frosting from his fingers.

“Are you still upset about Patrick?” she asks him when they’re piling into the car.

“Um no, because he texted me back last night,” David tells her matter-of-factly, tugging on his seatbelt. “Apparently he spent the day with his parents and did not see my invitation until late.”

“Oh that’s good news, David!” Alexis claps her hands together. “So when are you two going to go on a little datie?”

“I don’t know,” he says, flipping the radio on to effectively end the conversation.

Patrick, true to his word, is waiting for them as they approach the school’s main entrance, two to-go cups from the café in hand. David thought he’d be able to play it cool, but as he walks toward Patrick, he realizes he still doesn’t have any idea what to say. As much as he would’ve liked to arrive late to school and thereby avoided Patrick altogether, being Alexis’s ride meant that wasn’t really an option. Alexis waggles her index finger at Patrick as she strolls past by way of greeting, and Patrick nods at her before turning his attention back to David.

“Good morning.” He hands David the coffee, which David gratefully accepts.

“Hi.”

“Um, sorry I sent you, like, eight hundred texts last night? I thought we were just going to church, so I left my phone at home, so then all day I was just like, ‘is David texting me?’ And then when I finally got home I saw that I missed your texts, and I was like-“

“It’s okay,” David puts a hand out to stop Patrick mid-ramble. “I meant to text you back, I just – I was really busy last night.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “Thanks for this.”

“Oh, okay,” Patrick lets out a relieved sigh. “I just wish I could’ve seen you this weekend. I’m sorry we kept missing each other.”

“It’s fine.” David starts walking toward first period, and Patrick falls into step beside him.

“Did you have a good weekend?”

“Yeah, it was fine.”

“Good.”

“Mhmm.”

A moment of silence passes before Patrick speaks again. “I got most of the poster boards for the presentation done last night,” he offers. 

“Oh, that’s good.”

“We’re still working on it at lunch today, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” David keeps his voice casual. He doesn’t want Patrick to think that he thinks this lunch is something it’s not. "We are still on for a working lunch."

They arrive at the door to David's first class, and he can already see Stevie inside. He’s kind of avoiding her too, but he’d rather be talking to her right now than Patrick.

“I better get in there,” David says awkwardly.

“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll see you at lunch I guess.” Patrick fiddles with the sleeve of his shirt.

“Yep, see you then.”

+++++

David settles into his usual seat next to Stevie with as little fanfare as possible and wills her not to look at or speak to him. She, of course, immediately turns toward him, scanning him quietly. After a long moment of awkward scrutiny, he's forced to speak first.

"Okay, I don't need the attitude,” he tells her. “And no, I don't want to talk about it."

"When, in the history of our relationship, have you ever known me to take into account what you want?" she smirks.

"That's a good point."

"David. I tried texting you all day yesterday. I thought maybe you and Patrick were just having so much fun that you couldn't be bothered with getting back to me, but I see by the state of your hair that isn't the case. What happened?"

"Nothing," he exclaims softly. The last thing he needs is for other people to start listening in and this to become a _thing_. Schitt's Creek is way too small a school or a town for anyone to find out about his current romantic embarrassment. "Everything's fine."

"So, you and Patrick hung out?"

"We were going to. Um, I sent him a text asking if he wanted to see a movie or something."

"Okay."

"But, um, he was out with his parents all day, so he didn't see it until late. And by then I was already busy, so." David tries to keep his voice casual. He takes a sip of his macchiato.

"You were busy."

"Yes, that's right. I had to... help my dad... change all the sheets in the rooms."

Stevie shakes her head. "Hmm you don't make beds, though. Pretty sure that's built into your contract, actually."

David takes another sip of his coffee and considers his options. Stevie is friends with Patrick now; she could always get his version of what happened. Or, David shutters to think, Alexis's version. No, it's best if he just comes clean with his best friend and takes the roasting like a man.

"Okay. Maybe I was in bed in full face mask, watching a Buffy marathon and trying not to cry."

"Why?" Stevie’s looks concerned, though David can tell she’s not surprised.

"Patrick didn't text me back, like, all day," he starts. 

"But you just said-"

"I know what I just said!" Several of their classmates turn to look at him. David lowers his voice. "I know. But I did not know at the time that he wasn’t texting me back because he was out with his parents. I thought he was ignoring me."

"Why would he ignore you? He's super into you."

"Mmm but is he though? I mean, we had one kiss, which I initiated."

Stevie gives him a confused stare.

"I just think we're better as friends," David tells her.

It's a far cry from the truth, he knows, but it's the only version of his feelings he's willing to share with anyone right now. What's he supposed to tell her, that he believes he's too much for Patrick? That if Patrick spent enough time with him to actually get to know him, he'd run far, far away and never come back? He does not ever want to see the look on her face if she knew that kind of fear and self-doubt existed within him.

Stevie stares at him long and hard, like maybe she can see right through his bullshit.

"Really?" she asks doubtfully.

"Yes."

"So... okay, wait.” Stevie plants her palms on the desk in front of her and shakes her head. “So you came to this absurd and deeply flawed conclusion yesterday when you thought that Patrick was ignoring you?"

"That's correct."

"But then you found out that he wasn't ignoring you."

"That's also correct."

"What did he say, exactly, when he did see your texts?"

"Umm just that he, you know, was out with his parents."

"Nothing about the invitation itself?"

David sighs and pulls his phone begrudgingly from his pocket. He already knows Stevie's going to ask to see the texts anyway. He unlocks the screen and hands it over. She reads for a moment and looks up at him, her mouth hanging open slightly in disgust.

"You're a monster," she tells him.

"What? Why am I a monster?"

"You read these sweet texts. From this sweet, sweet boy. Who likes you. Who, quote, 'would've loved to hang out with you.' Who is 'so sorry he didn't see your texts, exclamation point!' And your response was just to NEVER text him back?"

David takes another sip from his cup. "It's not that bad," he reasons.

She points to David's cup. "That the coffee he brought you?" she asks, her voice flat, and he at least has the good sense to look a little guilty about that.

"What was I supposed to do, not accept a free coffee when it's offered?” David flails his hands. “Patrick couldn't have used it; he doesn't like caramel macchiato!"

Stevie squints her eyes at him. "Monster," she says again, handing his phone back with a look of pure disdain.

"Look, I am just being realistic about this," David tells her, though he isn't sure which of them he's really trying to convince.

"If we were to hang out, what would happen?” he continues. “Patrick would realize he's actually not that into me, that I’m a little much for him, and then we wouldn't even be friends anymore, and I don't want that-" David clamps his mouth shut, but judging by the look on Stevie’s face, he may have already admitted too much.

"You really think that?” she says softly. “That if Patrick got to know you, he wouldn't like you anymore?"

"We just don't seem compatible to me.” David shrugs. “You can't honestly tell me you think we have, like, anything in common."

Stevie gives him another one of those looks that makes him think she can see right through him.

"Maybe it's good that you're so different," she suggests. "Maybe that's _why_ he likes you."

David makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, but Stevie keeps up the staring.

"Look, we're still friends, alright? We're having lunch today!" David flails his hands again, to prove how totally ‘not a big deal’ this all is.

"You're having lunch with him?"

"Yes, we're working on our business proposal for YEC," David pauses, an idea occurring to him. "I don't suppose you'd want to join us for lunch?"

"Fuck no."

"I'll buy!"

"David, I'm not sitting in on your lunch with Patrick just so you can feel less awkward about rejecting him!"

"I'm not rejecting him," David insists, because it very much doesn’t feel that way at all.

Stevie folds her arms, clearly done with this conversation.

"Look, you're a big boy,” she says. “Do what you like. But I'm not going to be your wingman for this. And for the record, Patrick is still in it. You're the one walking away."

++++

Between Stevie calling him out and his own ever-present, though currently slightly-heightened sense of self-loathing, David feels like a pile of lukewarm garbage as he joins Patrick in the lunchroom.

He’s decided to go through with what Stevie had so inaccurately referred to as his rejection of Patrick. It’s more like an act of self-preservation, really. And he’s probably doing Patrick a favor too. By shutting things down now, he’s saving Patrick the realization that David is not worth the effort in the long run. 

He can tell Patrick suspects something's up from the nervous energy radiating off of him. He's sat across from David, drumming out a rhythm on the table with his pencil. His other elbow is propped on the table, his temple leaning against his closed fist. He's studying the finalized product info and marketing plan David brought, his plate of fries and chicken tenders pushed to the side, untouched.

David bites the inside of his cheek.

"What do you think?" he asks. "Does it look okay?"

Patrick looks up at him, his expression casually neutral. "Yep, looks good." He begins shuffling the papers together neatly and tucks them into his folder. "I'll add it into the rest of the plan. Should have it done tonight."

"Okay, cool."

They sit in silence for a moment. David pops a chip into his mouth but can barely register the taste of it as he chews slowly. Unlike their usual, comfortable silences, this one feels tense.

"What about the sample products?” Patrick asks. “Did you get the labels?"

"Yes, my dad picked them up this weekend. And I found some interesting looking bottles and jars in a shed at the motel, actually, so they should turn out well. I just have to wash them up and attach the labels."

"I can help with that," Patrick offers. “I could come by after practice, bring some food."

"No, no that's okay," David says in a rush. "Stevie and Alexis are going to help me."

"Oh," Patrick looks frustrated. "I mean, it's our project, David, shouldn't we do at least some of it together?"

"We'll be doing the presentation together though," David reasons.

"Okay,” Patrick looks around the lunchroom like he's missing something. "What is going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been acting weird all day, David. Are you mad at me?"

"I'm not being weird."

"You barely spoke to me this morning? You didn't even look at me when we passed each other after second period, even though we’ve always said hi to each other then. And now-," Patrick runs his palm across the table restlessly. Tension pulses off his body in waves, yet his tone is even and sure. "I thought you wanted to hang out? Like, we both tried all weekend to spend time together. And now, I offer to come over, and you don't want me to."

"I didn't say that."

"Oh, so you do want me to?"

"I... didn't say that either."

"What do you want, David?" Patrick’s voice is officially raised now, and a few people are starting to look their way. David catches Twyla watching them out of the corner of his eye.

“I just... want us to be friends," he blurts out, keeping his own voice low.

Patrick stares at him for a moment, unreadable. "...friends?"

"Yes. I just think... I mean, we both have a lot going on. You've got cheer and I have guard, and this presentation for YEC. It’s just, it's a lot.” David’s rambling, grabbing for anything that sounds like a decent excuse, even though he knows it sounds flimsy.

"Oh, so....oh." Patrick says.

"We can still hang out,” David offers, because Patrick looks so disappointed and he didn’t expect that. “Just...I think it would be better if we hung out... as friends."

Patrick looks hurt then, though David can tell he's trying hard to hide it. "Did I do something?" he asks. "Did I make you feel uncomfortable?"

"No, you didn't,” David tells him, trying not to get emotional. How could Patrick possibly blame himself, when it's so clearly David who screwed up?

"I'm sorry I didn't get your texts yesterday," Patrick says again. "I really was out with my parents, and I left my phone at home-"

"No, I know. It's not that," David tells him, adding sincerely. "You were wonderful."

"I'm going to be honest with you, David, I don't get why you're pulling away. I thought we had a great time on Friday."

"We did," David nods his head vigorously. He stares at the tray of food in front of him, not seeing any of it. He doesn’t trust himself to be able to look at Patrick's face. "I just think that... we should leave it there, you know? Like we had a great time, and now we just move on from that."

Patrick watches him for what feels like a very long time. David meets his eyes, briefly, trying to convey that he’s sure about this, that Patrick has done nothing wrong, that David still wants to be friends. He’s not sure he gets it all across, but Patrick seems to see something there that convinces him David’s for real.

"Okay, well it seems like your mind is pretty well made up."

Patrick stands, gathering up his things.

"I'll, um, I'll email you the finalized business plan and the notes for the presentation tonight,” he says. “We should probably meet to practice at least once before Wednesday, but we can figure that out later. And, uh, and then we'll be done."

"Oh, okay," David whispers, and he’s not even sure Patrick heard him. Patrick walks away without saying goodbye, and Twyla catches David's eye as he watches him go. She gives David a small, sad smile. He can't return it.

+++++

Ray, in his unceasing beneficence, has given them the day off from practice as reward for their stellar performance at homecoming, so David doesn’t see Stevie again until she’s banging on the door of his and Alexis’s room at the agreed upon 5:30 that night.

"You're a fucking idiot," she tells him before she's even set one foot across the threshold.

"Wow, okay, thanks so much. I love being verbally accosted in my own home." David moves aside to let her barge in.

"Patrick's been texting me all afternoon," she tells him by way of justification for her oral assault. “And then he wanted to talk about it for all of fifth period.”

“What did he say?” David presses, “Is he mad? Does he hate me?"

Stevie screws up her eyes at him. "Hate you? No, David, he doesn't hate you. He's freakin' heartbroken." She moves past him to sit, cross-legged, on his bed.

"Okay, well I'm sure you're exaggerating about that."

"He thinks he messed up with you. That he was trying too hard or something. He asked me what he did wrong."

"He didn't do anything wrong!"

"I know that! Do you know he asked me if you said he was a bad kisser? The man is, like, questioning his whole sense of self right now."

"What? No, that's not-" David emphatically shakes his head. "I mean, first of all, he is a great kisser. I have zero complaints in that department."

Stevie rolls her eyes so hard he’s surprised she doesn't rupture something.

“I cannot have Patrick thinking he's, like, a bad person,” David tells her. “I’m the one – I’m the bad person in this situation. I take full responsibility for that.”

"Maybe you should tell all of that?” Stevie suggests, waving her hands at him, “To Patrick."

"Definitely not."

"Well, he clearly still doesn't understand why you rejected him." Stevie moves to the table and starts fidgeting with the bottles David has laid out for them to attach labels to. "Not sure _I_ understand it."

"Look," David tells her, “this was not how this was supposed to happen, okay? I wasn't trying to hurt Patrick's feelings." At her incredulous look, he blazes on, spreading his hands helplessly. "I honestly didn't think he'd care that much!"

"What?"

"I mean, I guess I thought he'd be disappointed that we didn't get to make out or whatever, and honestly he's not the only one disappointed about _that_. But I assumed he would bounce back pretty quickly with nothing more than a little wounded pride!"

Stevie looks up from her phone. Who she could be texting right now, he has no idea.

"Well, he's dealing with a little more than wounded pride right now, I'll tell you that," she says. 

"You are such a dick, David!" Alexis bursts through the door.

"Oh my god, and good evening to you as well," David says sarcastically.

"I just spent the last hour and a half at practice with Patrick. He told me literally everything that went down between you two. I cannot believe you would break up with that sweet little button face, David."

"Here, here," Stevie chimes in from where she’s hunched over her phone.

"Okay, I did not break up with him because we weren't dating in the first place, so."

"He showed me all the texts he sent you on Sunday. Did you seriously dump him because he was getting ice cream with his parents and he didn't text you back?"

"What? No!"

"He brought you a macchiato to make up for it, David, I don't know what else you want from him. I mean I know it's not like a very expensive gift or whatever, but I don't think he has that much money."

"Okay, I did not break up with him because he didn't text me back." This situation is devolving, David realizes. "I did not break up with him!"

"Was it because of his clothes?" Alexis goes on, "Because I know the Levi’s are a problem, David, and it's something Patrick and I have been working through. I think I can get him to go shopping with me, though, and I can get him into something cuter."

"I don't care about his pants!" David insists, and chooses to ignore Stevie's subsequent snort. "I like the Levi's, actually. They're growing on me."

Alexis flops down onto her bed. "Okay, well then I don't get what you're doing. Patrick is cute and super nice and very into you. So it seems kind of like, you're being really dumb right now."

"That's because he is," Stevie looks up from her phone, smiling sweetly at David.

"Okay, I'll thank both of you to kindly get off my back. It's not like I'm happy about this either, okay? I like Patrick a great deal, and I am _struggling_ with this."

"Then why are you doing it?"

“Yeah, David?”

"Look, you two weren’t there, okay. You didn't hear what she said about me." David wishes he could reel the words back in the second he's expelled them, but he can already see that Alexis and Stevie are about to pounce all over them.

"Who is 'she'?” Alexis asks, squinting.

"Who said what now?" Stevie quirks an eyebrow. 

"... Rachel," David says quietly.

"What'd she say?" Stevie prompts.

David perches himself primly on the end of the bed. He didn't want to repeat this to anyone, ever, but they're all in it now. Maybe they'll understand why he had to end things with Patrick once they know.

“Okay, it was during the homecoming dance. Patrick had gone to get us some punch. I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I was just checking on the punch. And maybe checking to see if there were any snacks left."

Stevie's face is totally blank. Alexis gives him a little 'go on' eyebrow raise.

"Patrick was talking to Rachel and they didn't see me come up behind them. Not that I was sneaking," he asserts. "So Rachel was, like, basically telling Patrick that I was a lot, and she couldn't believe he wanted anything to do with me or whatever."

"Okay, so?" Stevie says like she really doesn't see the problem.

"So. She said that I was _a lot_. And I mean, she's right. Like, Patrick and I are so different. He's so _normal_ and – and nice. And I'm just..."

"A steaming lump of anxiety and histrionics?" Stevie suggests.

"A big, whiny baby who wears too much cologne?" Alexis offers.

"I was going to say 'complicated.'"

The room is silent for a moment. Then Alexis asks, "Okay, but what did Patrick say?"

"What?"

"To Rachel, David. When she said you were the worst-"

"'A lot,'" David corrects.

"-whatever, what did he say?"

"I don't know,” David shakes out his hands. “He said that he liked me. And that he didn't care what she thought."

Stevie looks up from her phone again to join Alexis in giving him another blank stare.

"So... he 100% stood up for you?" Alexis asks.

"I mean, yes. Look, Patrick has done nothing wrong here," David quickly assures.

“Obviously,” Stevie mumbles into her phone.

"Then why do you care what the eff Rachel says, David? She's like a terrible person anyway."

"No, I mean I know, but she was right though. I do not fit with Patrick. I do not make sense in Patrick's world. He is way too good for me."

And there it is. The one thing David had been fighting so hard to deny. The one thing he'd been afraid to admit, even to himself. And he'd just said it out loud to the two closest people in his life.

How embarrassing.

"Oh, David, you poor thing," Alexis says.

Stevie is watching him with that inscrutable, x-ray gaze she gets. Thankfully, though, she remains silent. David suspects she's known, maybe even before he did, that was what this was all about.

"Can we all just shut up about this now and put the stupid friggin' labels on the stupid bottles?" David pleads.

"Yep, yes. We can do that." Alexis is nodding as she launches herself off the bed and moves to the table.

They're relatively silent for a while after that, Alexis and Stevie having the good sense not to try to joke around with him. Alexis attempts to distract him with a story about some cute thing Ted had done earlier that day, before seeming to realize that bragging about her budding relationship isn't the smartest play right now.

Stevie is still texting frantically back and forth with someone, but remains tight lipped despite David's multiple queries as to who she’s talking to, but he knows it's probably Jake. Stevie has said very little about the two of them, but David has gathered that theirs is a very physical connection, so he assumes it likely involves a lot of sexting. Honestly he'd rather not know at this point.

When they're nearly done with the labels, his phone dings.

_{Hey so I just sent you the finished business plan. I put together a short powerpoint thing too to help with the presentation.}_

Patrick’s tone doesn’t seem cold, exactly, and David’s grateful for that. But he misses the smiley face, the little ‘how’s your day?’

**_{ok thank you for doing that.}_ **

_{Just being a good friend.}_

Ouch, David thinks.

**_{we're almost done with the product samples}_ **

_{Ok.}_

Which, wow: two letters. David guesses he should be thankful he didn't get a 'k' back.

**_{Um when did you want to practice our presentation?}_ **

_{Tomorrow? I can reserve one of the study rooms in the library during lunch.}_

**_{yeah ok. i can bring food for us.}_ **

_{No, that's okay. I'm sure it won't take long; you'll have time to eat with Stevie when we're done.}_

Wow, not even good enough for a working lunch anymore. David was kidding himself to think Patrick would want to be friends with him after this.

**_{Oh ok.}_ **

For a moment he lets himself hope that Patrick has messaged him back, but it's Stevie's phone that dings.

"I think I'm gonna have to take off," she tells David, already standing up.

"Okay. Thanks for helping with this."

"No problem," she tells him.

She's acting weirdly...nice? Though distracted. Probably in a hurry to get her 'Pony' time in with Jake. Which, ew to all of that.

Alexis abandons him too to take a shower and change out of her practice clothes. David is left alone, surrounded by a bunch of "Rose Apothecary" bottles, his phone in his hand. He shoots off one last text before putting it on silent and setting it on the charger. He knows he won't be getting a text back.

**_{Goodnight, Patrick :) }_ **


	7. Monday Bonus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick and Stevie's text chain from Monday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this bit to keep myself straight on who knew what & when. I didn't intend for it to be part of the original story, so feel free to skip if you want. But I wrote it, and Patrick and Stevie's interactions are so much fun to read and to write (although this one's a little angsty), so I went ahead & included it here. 
> 
> Patrick is in italics and Stevie is underlined.

_{Okay, I need to ask you something.}_

{what}

_{Is David mad at me?}_

{why?}

_{Because he never texted me back last night, and then he was acting really weird this morning.}_

_{Idk I’m just getting a vibe that he’s avoiding me?}_

_{Stevie?}_

{idk have you tried asking him?}

_{I just thought if you knew something then maybe I would know what to apologize for.]_

_{We’re having lunch together today.]_

{well I think you should just talk to him at lunch then. im sure you two will figure it out}

_{Ok thanks.}_

{yep}

+++++

_{Ok has David really not said anything to you?}_

{about what?}

_{About the fact that he just wants to be friends?}_

_{ oh.}_

_{So he already told you. Did you know when I was texting you this morning?}_

{well to be fair you asked if he was mad & he wasn’t mad}

_{Stevie! You could’ve warned me. He just blindsided me; I almost cried in the middle of the damn lunchroom.}_

{look I don’t agree with what he’s doing but its also his choice & it wasn’t my place to tell you anything.}

{i’m sorry though}

{for the record I tried to talk him out of it.}

_{Ugh, you’re right. I know it’s not your place to tell me David’s business; you were being a good friend.}_

_{And thanks for trying.}_

{wanna talk about it in shop}

_{Yes? Does that make me pathetic?}_

{nope, def not}

+++++

{so I’m at David’s and I was very much right about what I told you in shop.}

_{So you think he still has feelings for me?}_

{yep}

_{Well I was just talking to Alexis abt it at practice & David didn’t even tell her he broke up with me.}_

_{I mean not broke up because it’s not like we were officially going out, but.}_

{that sounds on brand for david}

{alexis is here. she’s piiiiissed}

_{Yeah, she was kind of wound up at practice. Apparently she thinks we’re a cute couple.}_

{she called him a dick. it was hilarious}

_{What’s he saying? It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.}_

{i probably shouldnt tell you specifics}

{but first of all he def doesn’t think you’re a bad kisser so congrats on that}

{he said he didn’t think you’d really care if he broke it off}

_{What? Why would he think that?}_

{unclear. he thought you’d be a little disappointed then get over it? he’s kind of rambling}

{ohhhhkay so apparently something happened with Rachel? at the dance?}

_{David overheard her saying some not nice things about him but nothing really happened.}_

{no he def was way upset about it}

_{He didn’t act like he was?}_

{thts how david is. he stuffs things way down then brings them back up at the worst possible time to torture himself with]

{umm ok so i know the real reason he ended it but i also cant really tell you the real real reason}

_{Okay, not sure what I’m supposed to do with that, Stevie.}_

_{It was something to do with Rachel though?}_

_{I told him I didn’t care what she thought.}_

_{Did he think I was lying or something? I wasn’t}_

_{Stevie}_

{leaving davids now. call you in a min}

+++++

_{Do you really think this is going to work?}_

{i guess we’ll find out]


	8. Tuesday & Wednesday #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The second option was also less than ideal, although David felt it was closer to the Right Thing to Do: he would stick out the project with Patrick, make every attempt to make up for his hideous behavior, and try to at least leave things civil between the two of them."

David wakes on Tuesday feeling wrung out. He'd been up late the night before, oscillating between two options for how best to handle the Patrick situation. The first involved pretending that he and Patrick were total strangers and they hadn't gone from acquaintances to fake business partners to friends to almost boyfriends to exes in the span of less than a week. Though this seemed like the easier option and was certainly the one he would've gone for in the past, it also would require David dropping out of YEC altogether and leaving Patrick to deliver their pitch on his own. As much as he hated the idea of completing this project alongside someone who resented him, he also couldn't bear the thought of leaving Patrick in the lurch. He'd done quite enough to make Patrick's life miserable; he didn't need to add fuel to the fire. 

The second option was also less than ideal, although David felt it was closer to the Right Thing to Do: he would stick out the project with Patrick, make every attempt to make up for his hideous behavior, and try to at least leave things civil between the two of them. The odds were good that they’d never be friends like David had hoped, but maybe he could find a way to show Patrick he cared about him and had his best interests at heart.

David wasn't simply going to go through the motions of being a friend, though, he'd decided. Oh no, he was going to be the _best_ fake business partner he could be. He was going to get up early so he could swing by the café to pick up Patrick's favorite tea and a scone. Then, he was going to absolutely nail their practice pitch, showing Patrick that he was taking this seriously and had every intention of helping them win. And, he was going to look amazing doing it. David had risen extra early to ensure that his skincare game was tight as hell. He'd chosen the perfect 'effortlessly hot' look and spent even more time than usual perfecting his hair.

David examined his reflection in the mirror, looking for a loose thread on his sweater or a hair out of place, but could find nothing short of perfection. He looked _good_. Though why he cared about looking good for Patrick, he couldn't say. It wasn't like he was trying to win Patrick back. He knew that ship had sailed. In fact, he'd been the one to crack the bottle of zhampagne across its bow and send it off on its voyage. And that was as much as he knew in the way of sailing metaphors.

He didn't even _want_ Patrick back, right? He knew they weren't right for each other; that was the whole reason he'd broken it off in the first place, right? He nods decisively at his own reflection. _Right._

"Oh my gosh, David, you look super cute." Alexis comes striding out of the bathroom. There's been an air of easiness about her since she and Ted went public with their relationship. She's been relaxed and easygoing in a way David hasn't seen before. She was also insulting him way less, other than about the Patrick thing. _She's happy,_ David realizes, with a pang of something in his chest that he can't quite name.

They swing by the café for their drinks. Alexis opts for a green smoothie; David gets Patrick's tea and a plain coffee for himself. (Well, plain save for a generous splash of skim, three Stevias and a sprinkle of cocoa powder, but still.) They're out of scones, so he selects a muffin for Patrick instead. Apple spice, which, he doesn’t want to unpack the symbolism of _that._

As he's pulling into the parking lot, David realizes that Patrick likely won't be meeting him at the door this time. They don't even have plans to see each other until lunch, and honestly, he's not sure Patrick would accept these olive branches from him if he offered them outright.

He's saved from having to fret about it too much, or come up with some elaborate plan to distract Patrick while he sneaks in to leave the treats on his desk, when Ted meets them at the main doors. David watches him and Alexis exchange a quick kiss, the two of them smiling dopily at each other. 

"Ted! Hi," David exclaims, cutting into their space and sounding way too excited even to his own ears.

"Hey, bud," Ted responds with his usual amity.

"You have first period with Patrick, right?" David asks like he hasn't had Patrick's entire class schedule memorized since the second week of school.

"I do."

"Can you do me a favor?" David asks sweetly. "I got him a little good morning treat, but I’m running late, and I won't have time to take it to him. Can you deliver these, please?" David is already pushing the tea and bagged muffin into Ted's hands with a wink.

"Oh, that's nice of you! You bet, big guy."

"Thank you so much, okay, take care." David backs away until he's confident Ted doesn't suspect anything. Alexis just watches him, thankfully and uncharacteristically silent.

+++++

"Mr. Ertlinger? Can you have David Rose report to the YEC meeting room, please?"

The chorus of 'ooooohs' almost drowns out Mr. Ertlinger’s monotone voice as he says, "You heard Mrs. Schitt, David."

"Um, okay," David says, already standing, trying not to be too awkward as he gathers his things and makes his way out of the classroom, all eyes on him.

What on earth did Jocelyn want with him now? She was always volunteering David and Alexis for one cringey favor or another. He really does not have time for this today. And why make him go to the haunted YEC room? Wasn't it bad enough he and Patrick had to make their pitch their tomorrow?

Unless this was about the pitch? What if Patrick told Jocelyn he didn't want to work with David anymore? What if she was calling David to the meeting room to tell him Patrick wanted him out of YEC? Had he not appreciated the muffin and tea? Maybe David had actually made it _worse_?

David tries not to panic as he opens the door to the meeting room. Inside, Patrick is waiting for him. David looks around, but he doesn’t see Jocelyn or anyone else. Stranger still, Patrick doesn’t look upset. He looks sort of tense, as Patrick often does, but he seems... happy to see David?

"Hey," Patrick says, a small smile pulling at his lips.

"Um, hi."

"Thank you for the tea and the muffin. That was very thoughtful of you."

"Oh. You're welcome."

"You can come inside, David," Patrick chuckles. "You don't have to stand by the door."

"Is the project cancelled?"

The smile falls from Patrick's face. "What?"

"Is that why Jocelyn wanted me to come here? Did you ask her to, um, reassign us to different partners or something?"

"What? No. David, I don't want a different partner."

"Oh," David steps into the room, letting the door fall behind him, but he doesn't move to come any further inside.

"Why would you think that?"

"I thought you were mad at me. I got you the tea and the muffin as an apology. But then I thought maybe that made it worse - that maybe you thought I was harassing you, or-"

"You didn't make it worse, David," Patrick takes a step toward him. "It was a nice thing to do. And I was never mad at you, for the record. I wanted to talk to you today, anyway. Stevie called Jocelyn last night, to ask her to call you down here so we could talk."

"She what?"

"Yeah, we um," Patrick scrubs his palm along the back of his neck. "We kind of had this plan, me and Stevie, to get you in here, so that you and I could – straighten things out."

"Oh," David takes a moment to process. "So you and Stevie have been-"

"Talking about you, yeah. A lot, actually."

"A lot, wow."

"I mean, your behavior has been pretty confusing, for me. And she is kind of the resident David Rose expert around here." Patrick shrugs. "Other than Alexis, obviously, but Alexis has been a little... preoccupied, lately, with Ted."

"Ew."

Patrick smiles at him, and David realizes how much he's missed that: making Patrick smile.

"Do you want to maybe sit down?" Patrick asks him.

Patrick perches against Jocelyn's desk, and David thinks it would be weird to sit in one of the desks and have Patrick lecture him like he's a student and Patrick's his teacher, for a plethora of reasons. He pulls Jocelyn's chair around to the front of the desk instead and lowers himself into it as gracefully as he can.

Patrick smiles at him again. "Um, so, I think there are some things I should've clarified for you," he starts. “Maybe if we had hung out over the weekend, I would've gotten the chance to explain, but-"

"You don't owe me an explanation for anything," David interjects. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"No, I know I didn't," Patrick gives him a smirk. "But something happened at the dance that you only saw out of context, and, um, I think maybe you would feel differently about us if you knew all the details."

"Okay."

"So, um, Rachel and I went out on a date," Patrick confesses, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

"Oh."

"Kind of," Patrick goes on, raising his eyebrows. "I mean, I didn't know that it was a date going into it, but uh - it became apparent to me during the course of the evening that that's what it was."

"I'm confused," David says.

"Yeah, so was I," Patrick laughs. "Um, so it was like right after I joined the cheerleading team. I hadn’t lived here long, and I didn’t know anyone… that’s one of the reasons I joined the squad, to meet people. Rachel asked if I wanted to go to the movies one day after practice, and I thought that would be a good opportunity to make a friend. But when we got there, she kept trying to, like, hold my hand, and she was propping her head on my shoulder..."

"I see." 

"Yeah, so I mean I told her when I drove her home that I didn't have feelings for her, like that."

David nods.

"She acted like it was cool, like she didn't have feelings for me either. But she's always been kind of weird around me, since then? And then when she said those things about you at the dance-"

"That I was too much and I wasn't right for you," David offers helpfully.

"She was jealous, David," Patrick says plainly. "I think she could see how much I liked you, and she felt threatened by that." The past tense isn't lost on David.

"Oh, how much you liked me," David nods, examining the rings on his fingers.

"How much I like you," Patrick leans forward, grabbing the arms of David's chair and pulling him closer, just a little. "because I want to be clear about something, here: you are not too much for me, David Rose."

David bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to smile. "Is that so?"

Patrick nods, looking at David's mouth again. "Yeah, that's right. And if you think I'm going to let you push me away without fighting for us-"

He doesn't get the chance to finish his threat because David is kissing him soundly. Patrick recovers quickly, one of his hands coming up to grip David's face, and David angles himself to kiss Patrick even more deeply. Patrick is leaning against him, perhaps a little too heavily, because the chair makes a pained creaking sound and they pull back from one another like they've both been smacked.

Laughing with relief that the chair beneath him _isn't_ going to snap and Patrick _doesn't_ actually hate him, David stands up. Patrick steps into his space and they wrap their arms around each other. Patrick is smiling as he kisses David, just once, a quick peck like they've been doing this all their lives.

"Well," Patrick says after a minute has passed. "I think that went pretty well."

"Yeah, good talk," David replies.

"I guess we should get back to class?" Patrick asks, though he doesn't make a move to separate himself from David.

"We're still on for lunch though, right?"

"Of course."

+++++

**The next day:**

Stevie’s knuckles rap sharply on the door to the stairwell.

“You guys are gonna be late for your pitch thingy!”

After a moment, David swings the door open and saunters out to glare at her, a disheveled and _very_ embarrassed-looking Patrick trailing behind him.

“Wow.” Stevie says when she sees them.

“What? We weren’t doing anything,” David protests, crossing his arms.

“Your hair and the hickey on Patrick’s neck strongly suggest otherwise,” Stevie says flatly.

Patrick's hand flies to his neck. "You didn't. David, did you give me a hickey?"

"I did not," David assures him, then glares at Stevie again.

"It's barely noticeable," she assures.

"Oh my god," Patrick groans.

"Look," David tells him, rubbing his arm. "It's going to be fine. We'll dab a little concealer on it. No one will know."

"I mean, making out in a stairwell literal _seconds_ before your presentation may not have been the best plan," Stevie reminds them. "In hindsight."

"We weren't making out," Patrick attempts, over David’s, "He looked really hot."

Patrick stares at him, the corners of his mouth slowly coming up to form a smile.

"I couldn't help it," David adds, grinning back. Stevie pushes them down the hall with a "good luck" and they make their way to the YEC meeting room.

Jocelyn had promised them a panel of "prominent business leaders" to judge the presentations, and David is very curious to see which of Schitt's Creek’s illustrious citizens might qualify for that title in Jocelyn's mind.

As David and Patrick follow Ted and Twyla into the meeting room, David catches sight of Ronnie and Bob sitting at a long table Jocelyn has placed at the front of the room. All the desks have been pushed along the walls, and the other YEC members are standing in a cluster near the door. Jake gives David a head nod as they approach which he does not return.

"Okay, everyone," Jocelyn begins once they're all assembled. "I know we're all really excited for today's presentation, and Ronnie has a massage, so we'll just get started! Some of you may know Ronnie, owner and operator of Ronnie's Construction." Ronnie gives a little wave. "And Bob, owner of Bob's Garage." At the mention of his name, Bob stands.

"I'm just happy to be included," he tells them, a big smile on his face. "I've cleared my whole morning for this."

"And, of course, you know me!" Jocelyn chuckles.

"Will you be our third judge, Jocelyn?" David asks.

"Yes, David!” she says through a gritted smile. “I asked several other people around town, but they were all too 'busy,' so here I am, volunteering myself for yet one more task!" She laughs ruefully.

"I see," David whispers, exchanging a glance with Patrick.

"Now, I don't want you to be nervous," she says, addressing the group. "I know you've all put a lot of work into these projects, and we're going to take all that into account. But don't forget that today's winning partnership will walk away with a one-hundred-dollar gift card to the café, so let's see some energy!" Jocelyn pauses and a few of the contestants clap unenthusiastically.

"As you know," she continues. "You'll have five minutes to present your idea, then we’ll move to the Q&A portion. You'll earn points both for your presentation and your ability to answer our follow-up questions. Now, would anyone like to volunteer to go first?" 

After a long pause, Twyla shoots her hand up. "We will."

"Okay, Twyla and George, great!” Jocelyn waits for them to assemble their materials. "Take it away, you two!"

Twyla and George, David knows, work together at the café. Their idea turns out to be for a food truck, and they must work together pretty well, because their presentation is very cohesive. They both speak on their respective specialties: Twyla talks about the customers they'll serve and how they'll get the proper resources for the truck, while George details the expansive menu.

By the time they reach the question and answer portion of their presentation, David’s a little nervous. It's not a terrible idea. With the café being literally the only restaurant in town, a food truck would, as Patrick would say, fill a gap in the market. Unfortunately for George and Twyla, Bob has a lot of very specific questions about the food they'll be offering and how they'll prepare it in the truck, which George doesn’t seem prepared for. Bob seems especially upset to learn that they won't be offering bagels? David doesn't follow all of it; he's too distracted by Patrick standing so close to him, mere feet away from the spot where they'd shared a kiss the day before, nervously tapping his fingers out in a rhythm against his leg. The presentation doesn't seem to end on a good note, though, and Twyla and George rejoin their group looking dejected.

Ted and Jake volunteer to follow them, with David flashing Ted a smile and a whispered 'good luck!'

They're idea, in David's opinion, is pretty inventive. They present the plan for an app similar to a dating app, except it would match users with ideal adoptable pets in their area. Ted presents it as "Petfinder meets Tinder," an unfortunate comparison which sounds a little gross and potentially illegal, but it's a solid idea. Ted shows a lot more enthusiasm and seems to be way more familiar with the research than Jake, though, who seems more focused on trying to seduce the judge's panel with his eyes.

David doesn't seem to be the only one who picks up on this. Jocelyn directs all of her follow-up questions to Jake, who has trouble answering them. Being Jocelyn, she isn't super harsh, and she does compliment Ted on his work, but David still gets the feeling that having an unequal partnership has hurt their chances. Patrick must realize the same thing.

"Good thing we split the work evenly in accordance with our strengths," he whispers to David, stone-faced. _How do I find that hot?_ David thinks.

Since no one volunteers to go next, Jocelyn flips a coin and it's Mutt and Tennessee’s turn.

Mutt's really only in YEC because his mom runs the group, and David suspects Tennessee is only in it because Mutt is. It's unclear whether Jocelyn forced him into it, or he shows up voluntarily to support her, but either way he's just sort of there. David assumes no one’s worried about Jocelyn showing favoritism as a judge, either, since she has said on multiple occasions that entrepreneurship isn't really one of Mutt's 'gifts'.

Their presentation is a hot, hot mess. Their idea seems to be for a you-pick pinecone farm? Though it's honestly tough to say since their pitch makes literally no sense to anyone but them.

"It's, like, you know, people should just follow the path of their own energy. Whether that leads them to feel inspired to use currency to express gratitude for the experience we provide, that's between them and the Mother Spirit. Each of us must vibe on our own wavelength," Tennessee explains, when Ronnie asks how much they'll charge.

And David thought Alexis could be hard to understand sometimes.

They seem to feel good about their presentation, though, as they rejoin the group with relieved smiles on their faces.

"Good job, guys," Patrick tells them kindly. And then it's their turn.

David is weirdly nervous, though he doesn’t know why. It isn’t like he's deeply invested in winning, and now that things between him and Patrick are back on track, it's not like anything is riding on the outcome of this presentation. He wants to do a good job for Patrick, though, so he flashes each judge what he hopes is a charming grin as he sets out their product samples.

Since this whole stupid thing was his idea and he is the Patrick-appointed “creative genius behind their partnership,” David addresses the judges first, laying out the overall idea for their store. He then turns it over to Patrick who seamlessly details their business plan and how all the finances will work. Patrick then highlights the benefit of supporting local vendors and artisans:

"The genius of David's idea is that it really will boost the entire local economy," Patrick's practically overflowing with pride and David has to stare at his shoes for a moment. He looks up at each panelists face, trying to read whether or not they like their idea.

"Do you have any questions for us?" he asks once Patrick has finished.

"I'd like to hear more about these open mic events?" Bob asks. "Will there be space for someone who does beat poetry, do you think?"

David turns to Patrick to answer, the open mic nights being his idea. "I think we would accommodate that, yeah," Patrick nods. "There's space for anyone willing to share their talent."

Bob seems appeased.

"I like the food idea," Ronnie says. "You said you'd have brie?"

"Yes," David tells her. "We actually found a lovely goat farm outside of town that would be our supplier if this was real. Their brie is _very_ good."

"I like that," Ronnie says again.

"Wow," Jocelyn shakes her head, a smile on her face. "Well, boys, I think you've addressed everything that was in the brief. Well done!"

Patrick beams at him as they take down their graphs and charts and David piles the empty bottles back into the box. He feels relieved, almost elated that it's over.

"Way to go, fellas!" Ted cheers as they return to the group, offering each of them a high five.

"We're going to adjourn for a few minutes to talk amongst ourselves," Jocelyn informs them. "And then we'll be back to announce the winners!"

They all spend a few minutes congratulating and commiserating with one another. If David's honest, he feels like he and Patrick have a shot, their only real contenders being Twyla and George. Patrick takes a lull in the conversation to wrap an arm around David's shoulders, leading him to the side of the group and leaning up to speak quietly in his ear.

"You did so great," he tells David.

"Thank you, same to you," David tells him, smiling an embarrassingly big smile. He wraps an arm around Patrick's waist, pulling him in close. Twyla catches his eye and grins, raising her eyebrows at the two of them. "I think it's between us and Twyla's team," he tells Patrick.

"Honestly, I don't even care, David," Patrick tells him sincerely. "As far as I'm concerned, I feel like I've already won."

"Well, that's a lovely thing to say."

"It's true." Patrick is smiling fondly at him. "And I'm taking you out to dinner either way. I feel like we should celebrate."

Just then, Jocelyn and the other panelists reenter the room, looking sober as, well, a bunch of judges. They make their way, single file, to the table and take what seems to David an eternity to settle into their seats.

"First of all," Jocelyn begins, "I want to say that I am so proud of you. Each of you put in a ton of effort, and all of your ideas were very inventive. Any one of them would be a winner in my book!"

Ronnie coughs pointedly, and Jocelyn's smile drops from her face. "But we also had to pick an _actual_ winner, and you really made it tough for us. In the end, though, there was one team whose idea was creative, well thought out, and seamlessly presented. The team who will win bragging rights, and a one-hundred-dollar gift card to Café Tropical is... Rose Apothecary! David and Patrick!"

Jocelyn breaks out in enthusiastic applause, as do Bob and Ronnie, and their fellow YEC members join in. Ted claps David on the back and Twyla shoots them a double thumbs up.

David's not going to lie: winning feels good. The past week has been an emotional rollercoaster and it feels good to know that, despite his best efforts to the contrary, David didn't mess it up. He got the guy, he won the thing, and he's a better person for it.

+++++

Later, after the room has cleared out and it's just the two of them pretending first period isn't a thing they need to go to, Patrick's smile is still bright on his face. 

"I can't believe I was so nervous to ask you to dinner last week, and now here we are," he says, shaking his head. 

"What do you mean?" David asks, confused. "You didn't ask me to dinner last week."

Patrick quirks an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, I said if we won, then we should have dinner together, and you said yes," he prompts. 

David tilts his head, processing. "I thought you meant, like, we would share the gift card."

"David, I was trying to ask you out." 

"Oh. _Oh!_ I did not get that." Patrick is wrapping his arms around David's waist, a wry smile on his face.

"That explains a lot, actually." 

Patrick leans in to kiss him and David's eyes slide closed, before a sudden thought occurs to him, and he pulls back. 

"Dammit!"

"What?" Patrick asks, all concern.

"Nothing, it's nothing," David waves a hand. "It's just, Stevie was right. About you, asking me to dinner." He leans into Patrick's embrace again, before pulling back one last time, a warning finger in the air. "She must never know." 

Patrick laughs again, and David watches how it lights up his whole face. He tightens his grip around David's waist, pulling him in. 

"Deal." 


End file.
